A deserted country road at night. You’ve been driving for hours, headlamps on full beam flash-illuminating ghosts of sleeping trees. The radio plays desperate love songs, songs of hope, songs of despair, lost time and moments where you regret not reaching out to touch another. These songs are gifts wrapped in shiny sonic paper that you tear open with just your mind and your heart. The radio station wants you to cherish them, as you wind through the empty starlit landscape, wondering if this really could be the last night on Earth.
Why is there only one radio station left?