The splashing of my dog’s water fills my head. The drops are silenced when they hit the soft
carpet a foot below her mouth. The
lapping and splashing suddenly stops.
The crunching of hard dog food being devoured quickly and steadily fills
that void. The pace of the crunching and
gobbling is matched with the jingle of her metal nametag against the ring of
her collar. As I continue to listen, I can
hear the muffled TV in the den. The
monotone updates of football stats echo through the hallway and into my room
meshing with the rhythmic song of Moose’s supper, filling my off white room
with more sound than expected.
Continuing to listen, I can hear the backbone of my room’s sound coming
from two houses down. It is the hum of
an old air conditioner; a hum that has been overlooked and drowned out until
now.
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