I stamp into the massive medical compound and find the spot to check in. receptionist butchers the last name. 

“take a loop and find the red wall, it’s to your right,” she says and i thank her. i do as she says and find the imaging wing. 

this must be the place.

i check in and a man in a knit cap stands next to me. he’s kind and tells me he hopes my injury is healed and i return the gesture.

i fiddle with my gown after taking off all my accouterment. 

anyways, i lay down on the machine and the nurse asks me what music i want to listen too while the machine goes. 

“it’ll be about 15 minutes,” he says, and the machine swallows me. 

the headphones sound funny as The Strokes start playing. it’s like the MRI is a synth player and he’s plugged in with the band, drowning Julian Casablancas’s vocals in uneven chirping and hums. an indistinct ad plays, then the song Electric Love hijacks my peace and disquiet. 

this song, huh? 

my thoughts have no place to go but to Aaron, and Kim, Sam, and the me that listened to this song years ago in a different life. the machine spits me out and the headphones are yanked off my head. i blink and the nurse offers a hand off the bed. i dress and leave to get a cup of coffee.