"Noise, noise, noise," Adam North said to the man on the bench. Why was there such noise in the city?
He thought that he understood what city life was going to be like because he had experienced it through the lives of his favorite television characters. In all the years that he had been watching the sitcoms he had only heard the sound of laughter.
Why was it that George, or Fred, or Archie had never complained about the city and this noise that was everywhere? They had taught him that city life was filled with persons that would live foolishly, and on occasion you would meet someone that was helpful, but the city was never loud or ugly.
Oh sure, Ralph and Norton had their problems with the city, but that was just two guys, and they lived a long time ago. Adam was not a bus driver, or... Well, he couldn't remember what Norton did for a living, but he knew that he lived better than the "skinny one" did.
Life in the country had not been much better. He was too far from all the places that he needed to get to. After all, the twenty minute drive to buy his groceries was just too much. There were no lively places of entertainment that would not require the participants to fill their bellies and minds with alcoholic beverages.
So, six months ago, he packed all that he owned into his 1982 AMC Pacer and moved to the city.
Right away Adam found an affordable apartment to rent. Then within a couple of days he landed a job as a data entry engineer; the pay was lower than he would have hoped for, but it was okay for an entry level position.
A week after starting the position with "A Hopeful Living Inc." his old reliable transportation realized that it was now forty years old and so on the previous Monday it just up and retired on him.
So here he sits at the 32nd Street train depot, waiting on the train to take him across the city to the place where his dreams will come true, or so their recruitment brochure suggests.
YOU ARE READING
The Unheard Sound
General Fiction"Noise, noise, noise," he said to the man at the end of the bench on the platform. Adam North was complaining again. This is what he did, daily. It mattered not if anyone were listening, because that would not change the fact that he now hated life...
