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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Teens
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Character Based
- Published: 12/14/2023
Lullabies of Static
Born 2000, U, from Singapore, SingaporeThe static comes on after all the programmes have finished airing. Weary, tired hands reach for the television remote, before dropping down in defeat when finding out the television remote was a distance away.
Static envelopes the room, making a weary sigh almost inaudible. Sinking my head down on the armrest of the couch, I made adjustments so as to find the perfect position to sleep in. Turning and tossing until I caught the view of the static. For a long time, I laid there, watching the static. The dots move about on the screen, jumping about like energetic little fleas, swarming the screen, leaving it in a whirlpool of black and white. Eyes opened and gazing into the screen, they gazed until they ached with fiery pain and could not be kept open any longer.
When all vision has been shut out, the sound is amplified. Loud, and a sudden rush of static jolts through my body, it feels as if with every second of static, another one of those little flies on screen falls and bounces off me, emitting that horrible, static noise. But I was too deep into sleep to get up now, so I laid there and listened. Listened to the agonising sound of static, as the sound of the fleas gradually turned into little screams, each scream like another prick on my skin. The fleas turned into crinkle and crackles of crinkly paper, the crisp noise lightening the stress my ears were met with earlier. The soft flipping sounds of the paper reminding me of the storybooks mother would read to me before bedtime every night, the fantastical worlds lulling me to sleep. On the flips of paper, they illustrated rain, realistic enough for it to be brought alive. Light calming streaks pelting on the world outside. The gentle pit pats bringing all the flurry emotions to a calm stop. The sounds of the flees, papers, numbed off, leaving the soothing rain behind.
Lullabies sung by the rain are the best, for the rain is expressive. On some days she sings a song of mourn, mourning a loved one, a death, a loss. On other days she sings of newfound hope, new beginnings, the startings, of gain. But today, she doesn’t sing, instead letting the static take over her role. Static, sings of nothing. His lullabies, although cold and devoid of feelings, has a flair of its own. His lullabies fade from harsh stabs to a mellifluous flow. He relies on your ears to shape his music, turning them into complete lullabies. His music lullabies from people to people, ergo the charm of his lullabies. However, just like any lullaby, they will never be finished, as the person would have sunk to the depths of dreams before the lullaby has concluded.
—-----------------
The morning fresh air blew in from the window I had probably forgotten to close last night. I rubbed my eyes till I got it to see right and clear. That was one crazy dream I had, huh? I marvelled quietly to myself. To think that static was a man who sang! I giggled softly to myself as I swept past the turned off television and into the kitchen. All while being oblivious to the obvious hints around the house that someone had actually been in my house last night, singing lullabies to me until I slept.
Lullabies of Static(A_Thousand_Sighs)
The static comes on after all the programmes have finished airing. Weary, tired hands reach for the television remote, before dropping down in defeat when finding out the television remote was a distance away.
Static envelopes the room, making a weary sigh almost inaudible. Sinking my head down on the armrest of the couch, I made adjustments so as to find the perfect position to sleep in. Turning and tossing until I caught the view of the static. For a long time, I laid there, watching the static. The dots move about on the screen, jumping about like energetic little fleas, swarming the screen, leaving it in a whirlpool of black and white. Eyes opened and gazing into the screen, they gazed until they ached with fiery pain and could not be kept open any longer.
When all vision has been shut out, the sound is amplified. Loud, and a sudden rush of static jolts through my body, it feels as if with every second of static, another one of those little flies on screen falls and bounces off me, emitting that horrible, static noise. But I was too deep into sleep to get up now, so I laid there and listened. Listened to the agonising sound of static, as the sound of the fleas gradually turned into little screams, each scream like another prick on my skin. The fleas turned into crinkle and crackles of crinkly paper, the crisp noise lightening the stress my ears were met with earlier. The soft flipping sounds of the paper reminding me of the storybooks mother would read to me before bedtime every night, the fantastical worlds lulling me to sleep. On the flips of paper, they illustrated rain, realistic enough for it to be brought alive. Light calming streaks pelting on the world outside. The gentle pit pats bringing all the flurry emotions to a calm stop. The sounds of the flees, papers, numbed off, leaving the soothing rain behind.
Lullabies sung by the rain are the best, for the rain is expressive. On some days she sings a song of mourn, mourning a loved one, a death, a loss. On other days she sings of newfound hope, new beginnings, the startings, of gain. But today, she doesn’t sing, instead letting the static take over her role. Static, sings of nothing. His lullabies, although cold and devoid of feelings, has a flair of its own. His lullabies fade from harsh stabs to a mellifluous flow. He relies on your ears to shape his music, turning them into complete lullabies. His music lullabies from people to people, ergo the charm of his lullabies. However, just like any lullaby, they will never be finished, as the person would have sunk to the depths of dreams before the lullaby has concluded.
—-----------------
The morning fresh air blew in from the window I had probably forgotten to close last night. I rubbed my eyes till I got it to see right and clear. That was one crazy dream I had, huh? I marvelled quietly to myself. To think that static was a man who sang! I giggled softly to myself as I swept past the turned off television and into the kitchen. All while being oblivious to the obvious hints around the house that someone had actually been in my house last night, singing lullabies to me until I slept.
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Marla
12/29/2023Your use of description throughout the entire piece is very good, and I hope that you share more stories.
I love the line about lullibies being sung by the rain!
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