Kyle Pettit

The boy at the record store

Kyle Pettit
The boy at the record store

It was her favorite thing to do.

She would spend hours running her finger though the paper covers of records both new and old. Flickering though brand new ones, still with the plastic wrapping and the old ones that held history in each of its tears.

The only thing she liked looking at as much as the collection of records was the young boy that seemed to be working every time she walked in.

He would catch her eye, she would catch his.

Every time discussing the latest of news.

“The Eagles are getting back together.” she would say.

“They’ve been saying that for years.” He replied.

This record store was the kind of record store that also had a small collection of books. He would always be quick to point out the new ones when they arrived.

“How good do these old pages smell” He said while smiling

“Like I’m being transported back into the time of simple. That and pumpkin, I smell a bit of pumpkin.” She smirked.

They would laugh as they look though old vinyl for hours. Changing out the black disks for new ones on the record player that stood just behind the check out desk.

“You know what would make this store perfect?”

He didn’t.

“If the records were on display in the order of color instead of name!”

He thought for a moment, smiled and nodded, but later said he disagreed.

She held up a record, Moody Blues, smiled knowing she wanted it but it’s wasn’t the right time.

In the end, this one wasn’t for her. She waited until it the sunset and the calmed settled. She left the store with a smile. Saying she would return, but didn’t. She loved him, but she could never get over the suspicion that he was just her favorite thing in the store.




*Photo by Mitchel Meeker