The tape that played itself back to me

Found an old reel from 1987 in a box of forgotten things—just a name written on the label: 'Pernille, for when you’re not sure.' No date, no song. Played it at 3am. It wasn’t music. Just static, then a voice—mine, younger—saying, ‘I don’t know if I’ll ever get this right.’ Then silence. I sat there, listening to the gap between the words, like I’d been waiting for years to hear it. The machine’s motor whined like it was trying to remember how to breathe.