“Seriously? Man, you have some god-awful music in your collection.”
“Yeah, well, the thing is, I… Wait, what are you doing back there?”
“We’ve been inverting the ratings on your songs for the last hour.”
“You what? Like hell you are!”
He swung around to grab at the iPod. The car ricocheted off a lamp-post. By the time the ambulance arrived, he was the only one still alive, hanging limply upside-down, held in place by his seat-belt.
He had been in a coma for weeks. His mother gently placed the headphones over his ears.
“The doctor thinks that hearing his favourite music might stimulate him, help him find his way back.” She smiled weakly.
Plugging in the iPod, which had survived the crash remarkably intact, she continued.
“Sometimes, I swear you can see his lips moving… Almost as though he’s trying to tell us something.”