The Sounds of Life After Five PM
I closed my eyes.
There are children outside flying a kite, its plastic wings slicing through a rough flurry. A cat is warming up its voice for a long night ahead. Cars are sporadically speeding by the once abandoned road. The breeze is shrugging through the leaves, playing soft music. An alarm goes off, peppering the air with sharp peals. Shouts fly and disappear into the vapor; indistinguishable voices, unintelligible emotions. A motorcycle rushes past, cutting through the serenity of suburbia and filling the peace with its bestial growl. An engine churns. Footsteps creep closer and then farther away, shuffling with casual urgency. Beeps and creaks that a cloudy condition or an insentient state can transform into the extraterrestrial. A sudden call to prayer, a cantabile lifted by magnified voices, one racing the other in entwining consonance, louder now, more intense – hearts singing, ears ringing, souls spinning, reaching higher, greater, a crescendo – almost there… and dropping. Silence. The evening sounds of the grinding mortar of my life after five.