A Memory of Sound

I'm awake, but I keep my eyes closed. 

It was a late night and I try to remember where I am. I reach across the air mattress and feel Rob's warm arm, and then I hear Shawna's voice from somewhere outside the open, once-dining room that has turned into a makeshift guest bedroom. I'm at Davidson College, in her house, and it's Spring Frolics weekend.

The running water of a shower cuts off with a squeak from the faucet and a hair dryer roars to life. Shawna's roommates chatter upstairs as they get ready for the day.

I can feel the sun, streaming in through the half-cracked mini blinds, on my face. I hear bare feet padding across the linoleum floor of the kitchen and country music blaring through a stereo in the living room. The coffee maker gurgles and drip drip drips. I finally open my eyes and follow my ears throughout the house to find Shawna, one of my very best friends.

I may be in a different state, but I'm still home.

And so ready for spring.