José sat on his balcony, tucked his chin against his guitar, and began to play. He didn't play a masterpiece. He played a simple, repetitive loop—a sonic heartbeat.
But José had a secret. Not a "superhero-cape-in-the-closet" secret, but something more rhythmic. José possessed the "Echo Heart."
One Tuesday—the most ordinary of days—the city felt "out of tune." The sirens were too loud, people were walking with jagged, anxious steps, and even the wind sounded like static.