Earth Shattering Quiet

Filled with disbelief, he attempted to dismiss the sound and continued toward the window. To his immense dissatisfaction he found that the fog had indeed begun to burn off and he could now see the towering pine trees just past his deck. Then the thumping forced its way back to the forefront of his mind and he realized that it was coming from that house again. He slid open the door to find out what it was and he was blasted with the lyrics to some sort of chick-pop anthem. His jaw clenched shut and he felt his teeth begin to grind together as he slammed the slider shut again.

Unable to find any room in the house that was not disturbed by the continuous stream of chick music that seemed to emanate from the very walls themselves, he sat on the sofa to fume and wait it out. When he'd heard the same set of music cycle through twice and begin again for the third time, he slammed the throw pillow he'd been twisting into knots onto the sofa beside him and forced himself to his feet. Stomping all the way, he barreled toward his front door and threw it open wide. He yanked his boots onto his feet, but did not stop to tie the laces.

He was halfway across the 300 feet that separated his house from the other before he realized that he hadn't even put on a jacket. Though he didn't find the air nearly as cold as the offending woman had considered it, he definitely wished he'd remembered a jacket. Then he was blasted once more by a woman's claim that she was "holding out for a hero" and his resolve was strengthened once more. He closed the distance to the front door and pounded hard on its faded teal face with the side of his fist.

After three rounds of knocking he realized that the occupant could probably not hear him over the deafening racket inside. With only a small sense of guilt, he tested the handle and found that the door had been left open. Once inside he was forced to cover his ears to protect himself from the extreme volume of the music as he searched for the source of the music or the woman controlling the dial. A quick search of the downstairs rooms revealed neither and he headed carefully up the stairs.

He doubted that he would be heard over the music but he attempted a loud, "hello?" that went unanswered. He finally found the stereo in the master bedroom and noticed that the CD had been left on "repeat all." He yanked the plug out of the wall so that he could be certain of silence and turned to await the outraged woman he expected to confront him from wherever it was that she was hiding. When no one showed up to find out why the music had stopped he headed back downstairs. On his way out of the house he checked the garage only to find that there was no vehicle there. Whoever had been listening to the music must have left it on when she had gone out.

Infuriated all the more by that fact, he stomped all the way back to his own house where he was unable to relax again for the rest of the afternoon.