The sounds of my world

[torquill]

The bass rumble of the locomotive's diesel engines.
The clamor of the bells from the train and the crossings.
The squeak of unoiled bicycle wheels, the whirr of oiled ones.
The warning buzz of idler wheels like rattlesnakes in dry grass.
The clatter of keyboards.
The tick of chalk.
The hum and click of printers.
The rustle of paper in silent rooms.
The almost inaudible voice of folding desk hinges as people shift.
The patter of many feet on stone steps.
The rush of automobile wheels on pavement.
The absurd normality of music, people talking, dishes clinking in the kitchen of a restaurant, like a breath of the real world.
The insipid electronic ding of the door chime on the train.
The equally electronic board reader at the station.
The distant breath of train horns.

There is no music here but that which we make ourselves.