After Seneca

How could anyone live in a city their entire life and not recognize the sounds that have surrounded them sense their very existence. It is a cool yet sunny day, and I am sitting here with polluted noise all around me. Allow yourself to close your eyes and take in the sounds that define a city. Angry looking business people yelling from one side of the street to another, “See you at the 10 o’clock meeting.” Mothers in an almost crying-like manner, pleading with their children to get their things and move. Sitting on the bench, you hear almost a whistle you assume is coming from an older gentle men sitting next to you. Only to find out it was the howling of the wind. Check your watch: it is 12 o’clock, and you can hear the grumbling of your stomach as if it is trying to reach out to you, muffled cries, through your shirt mumbling to you that it is time to eat. Open your eyes. The first thing that snatches your attention is the shouting of a man, standing at a yellow and red burger stand, “Burgers, ya burgers.” Listen to the sense of determination he holds so true in voice. With every cycle of repetition of the phrase, you can hear the eagerness in his voice to just sell you that burger. The welcoming tone of his voice has convinced you to purchase the burger. You stand up and reach into your very cold pocket for the money you awkwardly placed in there this morning. Proceed to walk to the stand and order your burger. Your tone of voice matches his upbeat and vibrant tone, “One burger please.” You and the man exchange smiles, and then you start to walk back to the bench, only to find a woman conversation on the phone siting down. Trading looks at one another, you sit down and begin to eat your burger. Thinking nothing of it, you begin to listen to her conversation. You start to see that she is very capable of masking her feelings. Her face looks helpless, desperate while her voice has a ring of independence. Direct your ears to the streets. The many cars vrooming by one after another as if they were all in a race to get to the same destination. You look out and see this red Ford Explorer with an engine that sounds like an exasperated old man, begging for his last breath. Immediately you hear the exact opposite, this incredibly small, Mini Cooper pulls up next to the Ford Explorer. It’s a green light, and the driver of the Mini Cooper honks his little clown horn. Before he moves the driver in the Ford Explorer smashes his hand against his horn and out comes a veracious deep set honk. You hear a vivacious jungle-themed ringtone: your friend calls you, and it is time to go. Get in the car and tell your friend about your noisy day.