Red Devil Crack Filler: Groove Box

When he finished, the space wasn’t silent. It was whole . The drip of the pipe was now a crisp hi-hat. The transformer’s whine was a melodic drone. The people were no longer angry or lost. They were nodding. They were a choir of two-step.

Wub-boom-drip. Wub-boom-drip.

Cyrus’s shoulders relaxed.

"Evening, Patch," grumbled an old man named Cyrus, wrapped in a coat of newspapers. "The crack under the 6th Street off-ramp is howling tonight." groove box red devil crack filler

Not for pavement. For silence.