168. The Sound Of Sleep

The sound of seagulls chattering at dawn. A squawking call building gradually in the first, followed by the response of others forming a strident chorus.

The sound of the bathroom exhaust fan. A steady purr mixed with a pulsing rhythm, going on and on and on, until suddenly the switch is flipped.

The sound of a horn brought forth by an angry driver. First one small burp, then two more in quick succession, followed by the long, steady shout of total infuriation.

The sound of a small plane taking off, followed by an airliner high above. The whine of the prop struggling against turbulent air, followed by the soft roar of the jet soaring at altitude.

The sound of construction workers joking with each other on the sidewalk. A few murmurs, then a loud exclamation, followed by a clatter of hearty chuckles.

The sound of water running in the sink. The gentle white noise of liquid forced through the faucet, landing almost silently in the basin.

The sound of an expensive car, followed by the sound of a much cheaper car modified to be louder. Deep vibrations increasing in pitch to a fine-tuned whine and then a flutter, followed by the metal buzz of a broken blender blasted through a tuba.

The sound of the neighbours’ argument travelling through the vent. A jumble of verbs and nouns growing progressively louder before ceasing with a harsh finality.

The sound of a building’s fire alarm in the middle of the night. A shrill bleating that transforms into a ring that resonates long after the bell has stopped.

The sound of sleep.