all the boxes stored in her head

Music. I CONSTANTLY have song lyrics in my head. Songs are my heartbeat, the center of my soul. I blurt out lyrics in response to what a person is saying to me, if their words strike a chord, if you will, with some song I have stored away in that wacky file box in my mind. Envision it if you would-- the hallways in my head are pristine. Your heels click, click, click on the tile. Aren't you wearing heels? Shit. Well, you are. I say you are. After all, you're in my head. The lights are fluorescent. There are so many doors though. You can hear a child's laughter behind one. A grown woman sobbing behind another. You dare to open a different door. It's a bit dark in here, so you flip the switch. Stacks and stacks of file boxes. A few boxes look as if they'll topple at any moment.You open the box closest to you, and you are amazed. What you thought would be yellowed papers, the corners curling, receipts?, a life's worth of insurance documents?, isn't paper at all. Music, so much music. You look closer at the label on the side of the box:late 80s it reads. My goodness! She's stored every single song, commercial jingle, television show theme, that she's ever heard. Impressive, isn't it?