Small comforts
Nina's 'unplugged' CD would probably make an elevator trip less humdrum. In a coffee shop where the americano is a half-breed, the sound of Nina's singing coming out of the discreet speakers is enough reassurance that the reader will be able to appreciate the fine details behind phrases such as "beautiful poisonous universe," something that may be dismissed as just another case of oddly-placed words had they been read at a coffee shop where, say, Coltrane's My Favorite Things would sufficiently distract the reader to contemplate buying the CD, of course conveniently placed beside the cash register like a pack of gum.
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