by Noah Cicero

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Frankie is in his house.

Disco music plays on the radio.

He dances wildly to it.

Ever since he was little he has loved disco music.

Frankie used to sit the floor and play disco songs.

Frankie’s childhood was not happy.

It was ugly, shit, broken, chopped up, small sharp pieces of glass, ulcers and anxiety.

He had no dad.

His mother would sometimes take to smoking crack.

His brother wouldn’t let him play with his toys.

One of the kids in the neighborhood stole his bicycle.

He would listen to the sounds of the Bee Gees, K.C. and The Sunshine Band, Donna Summer, and A Taste of Honey.

And the sweet sounds of disco would take him away.

He knew where they were coming from; he noticed dicso was usually only about two things, staying alive and dancing.

And those were his two main interests.

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