Time stopped.

She didn’t realize it immediately, but they were all waiting on Priscilla to drop in a quarter and select her song. There was no way Priscilla could know that inside the machine lived decades of spirits waiting for their chance to express themselves and impress upon the outside room their innermost sensibilities.

On the outside, Priscilla was lost in thought and oblivious to the fact that she was the only person left in the diner who had yet to spend her quarter. Pages of euphonic selections flicked past her eyes as Priscilla tried to connect to the vibe of the restaurant.

Finally, her eyes met a familiar title on the last page. It was the perfect song.

Priscilla raised her quarter, plunked it into the machine, and pressed two buttons. The conductor raised his baton and the spell was lifted. The band came to life as the horns started in.

The room danced.