Prose Number Five
I asked the deaf man, who watched the flying birds in awe and wonder, if he could hear their chirp as they circled with the wind. He grunted and laughed, Fool! He clamored at me, grabbing my arms and shook me. You are the deaf one; your ears are filled with the wax of the machine, the bombing of the freight train, the retching of steel. I was shocked by his words, and he grinned his toothless grin. I heard your heart skip two beats, but listen honey I am not deaf; I just hear the earth in its original song.
Response
As the writer asked I listened to my surroundings. What I heard was the hum of my laptop’s fan running and the sound of the refrigerator hitting B-Flat on the major scale. I have always been sensitive to the subject of natural sound and industrial sounds. I even began to write a collection on how my main character goes from enjoying nature and falling in love to an instant change of environment and all he hears is drills and the crunch of concrete under his feet, instead of dirt.
The idea that we humans relate to the environment
No comments:
Post a Comment