when words fail me, which is often, I paint. When words work for me and are available on time, I am surprised.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

What is The Point?

I miss this place, but yes the Statistics and the rest of life is keeping me busy doing things I'd rather not, but the material flows nonetheless

OlD decrepit man, well past 85 hobbles in through my shop door. The quiet afternoon sun pours through the store front window. A familiar, uncomfortable sound, high pitched and whining reaches me at the other end of the room. A sound that makes me want to cover my own ears, to escape its hideousness, the sound of hearing aids being run under water. The microphone feedback when the speaker is too close or filled with some sort of static electricity maybe.
Saying nothing, I watch as he limps through the motions, readjusting his cane in order to hang his hat and coat on the peg on the wall.
I nod to indicate hello, and point to the chair where he may sit.
I cape him and grab a clean comb.
I ask,"doesn't that ringing hurt your ears" incredulously.
Old man looks and me and replies, "ARE THEY RINGING?"
A smile spreads across my face.
Thankful for the muse in my daily routine.

3 comments:

Laura said...

Oww! Stop! You're hurting my ears just writing about that! Seriously, I think I'm getting a headache!

Feel free to post when you can! I read it when I can.

Jerri said...

Fabulous story, Stacy.

Don't you love it when life points out the obvious? I sure do.

ds said...

a couple of the people I work with have those, and one lady's ears are so bad they're almost always turned up that loud so she can hear... if I could just understand what she says.