A song

The song came on the radio in the car. He hadn't heard it in years. Twenty-five, maybe thirty. He was fifty now. "Big in Japan," the singer said. His wife was driving. She didn't seem to notice. He remembered the year because that's when they'd met. That exact year. The song had played at every party, every bar, every moment of that burning summer when the world felt possible and small at the same time.