Familiarity lends its way to….. well…. a fairly good understanding. What is to be is no longer mystery but rather expected.
Water runs but for a moment. It stops. Methodical plodding. Feet destined to where I am not. A door gently closes. Silence.
The hour is now mine, solitary.
I sort the events of the day with the voices in my head. They laugh appropriately though not audibly. Their volume is my smile. They feign interest but contribute nothing of sustenance to the discourse. I sense their disinterest.
I am their disinterest.
I change subjects and everyone speaks. At once. White noise constant yet unintelligible.
I’m sitting here with a chorus of voices and every one of them is singing a different song. Many are off key and the ones on struggle to stay there amid the ruckus. The songs are familiar, yet unrecognizable.
I am the dude at the podium trying to sight read the score, waving my ignored arms wildly in a three four rhythm.
And we all look the fool for our efforts.