loading . . . Read an excerpt from Go Yama's forthcoming "Rumi", and listen to 'Philosopher Shell' from the accompanying OST. _For our next release, we're putting out the next full-length album by Los Angeles producer and jazz guitar wizard Go Yama, a children's book & soundtrack combo called "Rumi"! We'll have plenty more to say about this really special project in the coming weeks but, as we've released the first single _**_Philosopher Shell_** _today, we wanted to share the accompanying chapter for you to read for free!_
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The glowing tail skirted right along the top of the cove, continuing to draw figure-8 patterns in the water. Rumi kept trying to figure out what kind of fish it was but could only catch glimpses: a fin, a stripe, a scale. After following the darting glow through dense patches of tall sea grass, she found herself in an ivory-white, sandy clearing. “Now, where did you go, you weird little glowing tail?” Rumi said out loud.
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An underwater phonograph softly played Debussy's __Rêverie__
The piano's dreamy soundscape conjured memories of her soft bed, and she paused for a second, lost in thought. "You there! Young lass, what are you doing over there sulking? Come over and help us. We have a dreadful problem." An elegant voice startled her from her daze. Rumi turned to two-chambered nautilus shells nestled on the ocean floor, both sipping on curious bubbly beverages floating above a tiny table in between them. The shells were identical, save for their shoes, one black and one white matching perfectly with the black and white checkered board, with mysterious figures sitting atop, that lay squarely between them. A sweet scent of freshly baked sea scones filled the air.
‘“Do they even have feet?’” Rumi wondered.
The black-shoe shell coaxed the white tea bubble to his mouth and took a long drag. “Ahhhhh, I’ll never tire of the taste of Peony. Delightfully floral.”
“Dreadful! I still don’t know how you drink that stuff. Poison really. I’ll stick with my trusty English Breakfast; it hasn’t let me down… yet,” the white-shoe shell said, adjusting the impractical monocle covering his practically nonexistent eye. Rumi stared curiously at the geometric markings on their shells, patterns that seemed to repeat into infinity as they got smaller. They seemed to almost spiral and move as she examined them. It reminded her of a fake image filter in Ocean Days.
“Don’t be afraid of my delightful twit of a friend here. He’s harmless, really,” the black-shoe shell said.
“Who are you calling twit, you dreadful anemone-brained clownfish?”
Rumi chuckled and drifted toward the table. As she moved, the ocean seemed to warp around her, squashing her like a 2D video game character. And then, a back-and-forth in-game cutscene began.
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