Airborne

Rush. The sound of blood in your ears. A flood of cars on wet asphalt. Water forced from the tap, bubbling, splatters onto the aluminium sink and falls into the drains, gurgling their horror.

Tick. Tock. The sound of the second hand that moves so slowly and the hour hand that blurs by in endless circles. The silent night that falls so slowly and all of the sudden the stars rush out to blind me.

Whoosh. The sound of the leaves that fall so loudly from the trees and beat down like falling rocks raining from the sky. The quiet storm that beats against my face.

Buzz. The sounds of the bumblebee perusing through autumn leafage for the last honey'd drops of summer in the park as we watched. The sound of flickering fluorescent lights in the linoleum kitchen.

Hum. The sound of a soothing voice echoing as I lay across his chest with every tender taken breath, the exhilaration of feeling him being, alive. The sound of the refrigerators on sleepless nights.

Pitter patter beats the heart, and pitter patter the raindrops fall.
A flood, a tide, a thunder of feeling.
Nerves scattered overwrought in veins of brightness across the darkened windows.

Then falls the silence.
A quietness of thought.
A footstep towards the airborne-

A stain upon the floor.