Classes cancelled today. The parents are coming to see thier children at school, and I am supposed to dress up really nice in case one of them sees me. I always dress up nice though. It's a pretty rare occasion these days that I'm not wearing a tie. Sometimes even on the weekend.
My office is empty, though anything but silent. I don't think I believe in silence anymore. The outside world is gushing with the babble of laughing children, pouring in and out of the doors. If there is a method to their movements, I do not know it. Tall and straight, like trees beside the highway, I can see the other teachers rushing past my window, the click-clack of their heels on the concrete floor a constant reminder that they are, in fact, human, and not as tall as they seem. You would never mistake their height if you saw them in real life, but that was not what they wanted, straining to see even the slightest bit of the road ahead of them.
I can almost feel the trepidation of the mid-morning sky, intermittently split by the penetration of a passing jet. The opening closes as the sky rejoins itself with thunderous applause. They will tear apart again. They will join together again. The earth will rejoice.
The air pressure squeezes a wave of mollecules that gently tap at my door in aftershock. Say hello. I stand and I knock. If I hear voices, should I answer? I shift in my seat, and the floorboards rally together in a groaning complaint against me, joined soon by the backrest in my comfortably aged desk chair. I don't think it was ever meant to recline as much as it does, but I'll have no complaint. The cream brown liquid in my coffe thermos splashes against the walls as I drink it. The sound, shifting, distorted notes spilling over the top of each other. Music to greet the gaining sun. I hear familiar voices, chattering in a language that I don't understand, though I recognize it.
No. I don't believe in silence, and I am no Athiest. It takes more faith than I have to believe in nothing.
My life is filled with moments like these. You have to lie in wait, bait in hand, in order to catch them. Most days, there is not enough time.
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