Crow’s Feet Writing Prompt #58
How I Survive with Sound Sensitivity (Hyperacusis)
When music hurts more than it heals
A few years ago, a drug house sat a few lots away from mine under the cover of sky-high trees.
Cars cruised my street at all hours, their sound system blasting, as the drivers headed to pick up their meth, molly, or cat valium.
I didn’t tear out of my house at 2 am in my nightgown, place my body in front of their vehicles, and scream, “Turn it the f down.” They might have murdered me.
I felt braver when the cement pourers partied with the music volume on high while waiting for the concrete pad to dry across the street.
I thought, “Why not ask nicely if they could turn the volume down?”
The gang of big guys just laughed at me. “Wait till the roofers come! They’re far worse than us!”
You might think I’m a stereotypical old lady stuck on the tunes of her time who hates the crass music of the younger generation.
Not exactly. I hate music altogether.
I wanted to love music like my peers
Maybe hate is too extreme a word. As a teen, I vibed with the music of my time, but at a…
