I've been hosting a Carly Simon earworm for a week now. You put it there, snaked it in while I was paying attention to your half-cocked smile, that gap in your teeth, the feel of your hair in my fingers. That you weren't physically present at the time is of no consequence: my mind's eyes and fingers were occupied by you as your message massaged in the small wriggling creature that won't let go days later.
This is the power of a word, a thought, a whisper of an idea unlocking memory. This is what I love about Idol--the way a word or two can unlock a whole world of me that begs to be put on the page. Almost better than sex.
Bring it on, Gary. I'm ready.
This was written in response to the Week Zero prompt at therealljidol.