the room kept time.

The power died halfway through the set. For a few seconds, the crowd kept moving, carrying the missing bass in their knees. Then the phones came out. Someone shouted toward the booth. One by one, people found the stairs.

He stayed beneath the dead speakers. It had been a long week; he had come to have the noise knocked out of his head. Now even this had broken. Backstage, water struck a metal bucket. A loose shutter rattled twice, paused, rattled again.

His boot began keeping time. He noticed it and nearly stopped. Instead, he stood there a little longer. When the caretaker reached for the bucket, he said, “Leave it a minute.”