I donned my helmet and stepped into the airlock. I buzzed the comms to let her know I was ready to go.
“You aren’t taking that thing with you,” she said. It wasn’t a question. I hefted the boombox to my shoulder.
“It helps me work,” I said.
“There’s no sound in Outer Space.”
“I can feel the vibrations through my helmet.”
“Fine, depressurizing in five… four… three..”
“No, wait!” I shouted, scrambling to secure my pockets. There was a klaxon and a whoosh as the air rushed out of the airlock, taking my collection of vintage cassettes with it.

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