i pick up my dented pack of american spirits; there are only two left and they shake inside the cardboard, creating a tinny, hollow sound. my thumb grazes across my lighter and the switch makes a metallic click. it's drizzling, and i can hear the light pit-pat-pit-pat as the raindrops hit the trees; when they pelt the canvas awning over my balcony, they create a more baritone sound (dum-dum-dum-dum). i have left the door open and tuna pads out to sit next to me. he is too light on his feet to make any sound, but he alerts me of his presence with a high-pitched, drawn out mroooow. i can hear uncw beginning to wake up; several cars turn onto campus from macmillan. the first is an old camry, and i can hear its engine whirring quietly as it passes by. the second is a large pickup truck - much louder, revving almost rudely, than the camry (even tuna looks up in confusion). the third is a prius, and i cannot hear it at all. the clock tower begins to chime from afar, and i have to strain my ears to hear the distant, reverberating bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong - it's 8 am. my bagel finishes cooking and the toaster goes off, creating a high-pitched diiiiiiing that fades into silence once more.
No comments:
Post a Comment