the sound of morning [aka: unplugged]

A man coughs, opens a car door.

VIA train whistle in the distance.

A small gathering of bird talk behind a house.

Tires on pavement, driver waves.

Front door opens, young boy stands on stoop. “The dump truck is still here!”

A woman in jeans and ballcap passes: “Morning!”

A woman leaves a house: “Thanks so much!” Gets into car. [Not sure, but I have the idea she just dropped off a child. Relief in her tone?]

A woman in Canadian flag toque comes out of house, blows her nose: “Morning!”

A door shuts on one side of the street.

On the other, a door opens, car unlocks with a beep, engine starts.

Further along, two young children, low-speaking, stand in driveway. Too quiet to hear what they say.

My footsteps.

5 thoughts on “the sound of morning [aka: unplugged]

      1. Alice, your comment has inspired me to add an ‘aka’ to the title. At the time I wrote it I wasn’t thinking in those terms because I’m never ‘plugged’. But it’s true that there are many options for ‘sound’.

  1. I’m mostly unplugged too. It’s only in the last year that I’ve discovered audiobooks and have been rediscovering my favourite 19th and early 20th century writers (ie in the public domain and therefore free recordings). The stately words and outmoded social habits adds a Zen-like literary feel to doing dishes or cooking. Including, lately, when I’m walking alone.

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