The Good of Quiet

It’s so quiet in here. It’s that kind of calm serene quiet that relaxes you, soothes you, and makes you hate every noise going on outside.

A construction truck is backing up. Beep, beep, beep goes the construction truck as it backs up.

I hate construction trucks.

A semi is traveling down the highway. It just hit its Jake Brake.

I hate jake brakes.

The neighbors upstairs are fighting again. “You’re mean. You’re drunk. You cheat. You fart a lot.”

I hate neighbors.

A police siren is blaring down the road. “Weee wooo wee woo wee woo wee woo”

I hate police sirens.

The woman in the apartment behind me is apparently hanging 1000 pictures in her bedroom next to mine. “Hammer hammer hammer… Hammer hammer hammer…”

I hate hammers.

A car alarm is going off downstairs. Car alarms only point out who can sleep through anything. Why is the answer always the car alarm car’s owner.

I hate car alarms.

Now a bird is chirping. Chirp chirp chirp. Chirp chirp chirp. The bird chirps louder. Chirp chirp chirp.

I hate chirpy birds ruining my quiet.

Chirp chirp chirp. Chirp chirp POP SQUAWK!

The squawk was even louder than my BB Gun. Now, where’s that car alarm owner.


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