The Man in the Suit looks around at the expanse of desert. Nothing but two men and a shitload of red earth like they were standing at the edge of the world.
And this one cart.
He studies the old man for a moment, wondering if it was this guy he was sent out this far to meet; with nothing but a note, an old suit, an unusual artefact to guide his way and a promise of a great gift. Of desires granted.
Though curious to find out what this gift could be, and who would show up for him, he had a niggling suspicion he should keep his mouth shut and that it best he wait to see how things played out first.
He nods his head towards the cart, as he slowly inches closer to it. Watching that this crazy old loon didn’t do something…crazy. “Whatcha’ got in there?”
The Old Man walks back over to the cart decorated with a clash of op shop oddities and begins to dig through the many boxes upon it. In the rows of boxes in the cart, were hundreds of vinyl records, each with sleeves in an assortment of colours. Some with cracked edges exposing the white and others seemed new, almost freshly painted.
“Are you gonna’ play me somethin’?” He could still feel his throat aching from the hours or days that had passed since he’d last tasted water. But he was intrigued by this old guy, so far out from anywhere, and his little cart of music.