Contraudacious
Contraudacious: The overwhelming capacity to hear contradictory sounds.
The dull hum of the LED lights above me fill the silent void in the room. Though, the silent void in the room was never silent. My thoughts filled them. They are never-ending.
I never understood how people went for a run to “Clear their head.” I thought it was hyperbole; surely, your head couldn’t be clear. The internal monologue of their voices don't just shut down…do they?
The hum becomes louder and louder as I try to put my focus into writing. Writing in my journal is supposed to help. It’s supposed to take this constant stream of consciousness and put it onto the page. So it can live elsewhere. But my thoughts are at war with this incessant high pitch scream.
I place my headphones in. I press play on the score of Interstellar; A better form of consistent sound than whatever is going on above me.n
Still in my soul, I hear it. Maybe I don’t hear it. But I do. I know it’s there.
I feel sweat drip down the side of my body as I pick up my pencil once again. My shirt is too loose to absorb it. I don’t like tight-fitting clothing.
My pencil screeches along the paper; graphite pulling at the loose pulp.
I let the pencil slip out of my moist hand, toss my headphones aside, and run to the light switch.
This newfound darkness is ever consuming.
And I feel at peace.
Until I hear the car door slam outside.
About the Creator
KB
A snippet of life. Some real, some not. Thanks for reading!
Yuen Long MTR station, on the Tuen Mun/Wu Kai Sha line, at 08:32am
He caught a glimpse of his face reflected in the train station's platform glass barriers. The skin under his eyes were red. His eyes were tired. His hair, again, a mess. But this was Hong Kong, not a single person around him would care to notice. They had all been in his situation before. They had all appreciated being ignored in their own similar moments. He looked up at the arrival board. Just under a minute until his train arrived. Just three stops until Mei Foo, then it was time for another day.
By Hywel Latimyrabout 19 hours ago in Fiction
High Rise, Deep Impact
I have witnessed a death that I relive every time I step into an elevator. Although it no longer affects me as deeply—given that it's been 11 years since the incident—it remains a heart- rending memory from my first and last day as a paramedic. My initial call to the scene involved a man who seemed to have fallen down the elevator shaft of a high-rise building. Alternatively, it might have been that the elevator moved upwards while he was working on it. Different scenarios were being considered when I arrived.
By Penelope Henaina day ago in Writers
Comments (6)
You describe getting out of your own head as something really claustrophobic and capture that really well. It's ironic that darkness brings peace but the inability to write - nice touch. I wonder about the car door - is it because the peace will be threatened? Is it someone scary arriving?
Wow, this was quite vivid. I've been blessed with the capacity to isolate useful sounds and concentrate on them while ignoring others. Also, have you read about the experiment where people were confound in completely sound-proof rooms with no sound of any kind? Most of them wanted out in a matter of hours. Apparently, complete silence is not good for humans either.
So , so relateable - I have some odd thing with noise, especially with more than one at the same time-makes me anxious . And once I'm aware that it exists...You captured that feeling perfectly 🤍 Great word for it and congrats on top sotry!
I can relate to your thoughts on going for a run.
Wow, this is intense, well written! I actually read it while taking a break from my own micro fiction- I want to share it with you when I’m done because I think our words and their stories go nicely together!
Lol that ending! Your story was extremely relatable! Loved your word!