unless i wake early, there is never silence. the morning is filled with sounds of bustle: cereal into bowl, egg sizzling in the frying pan, coffee maker bubbles, the tumble of clothes drying, footsteps on the hardwood, a little voice that declares its presence in the world.
over breakfast: an explanation about words that end in “it”, an eager learner, cereal softening against milk, infrequent text alerts, soft hum of the furnace, melodies from the local radio station, a question about where babies come from.
there isn’t enough silence in the morning for my own thoughts, so i give in to the lack of solace and listen to what’s provided for me. I’m neither resentful nor content. I’m always somewhere floating between the two.
/ / /
16 February 2017
free write based on WordPress Daily Prompt: Sound