chapter+7

The Earl of Tennesee

I hear the crickets ironically chirping as there are no other sounds outside. I hear my brother's guitar, his incessant strumming, the vibration of the strings. It's out of tune a little. I hear my mom tossing and turning in the night, my dogs as they patrol around the house at the ready for an intruder, the familiar creaks of the floorboards as someone wakes up, the microwave, someone's midnight snack, maybe to get their mind off a bad dream or to ease their troubles then finally. That's it, I think, as I hear nothing, the sweetest sound I've ever heard, as I finally drift into sleep. I realize how I miss it in a busy day of school, friends, band. I only hear noise but as I try to get myself awake and appreciate this rare moment of pure silence, nirvana, relaxation. I wake up and realize it was all a dream, but these are the familiar sounds that haunt my subconcious as I wait, the slip into unconciousness, only to awaken the next morning, ready to do it again. Jackson Wolph