Writing Downstream-Aaron Kelstone

Sometimes it startles me when I remove my cochlear implant.  The moment between sound and silence is jarring as if one just made a leap from one plane of existence to another.   No time to yell “Geronimo,” no apparatus to pull that will create some kind of parachute for the mind to adjust from the one experience to the other.  Sometimes the brain, in that moment of panic between sound and silence begins to rummage through its synapses files seeking some solace in what is remembered. Tossing out sounds like a homeless person rummaging through an alley garbage can. Pulling out whatever can be found that is of value.

As I thought about these kinds of experiences between sound and silence I recall that sometimes I  use the internet as a form of distraction while I wait for the brain to calm down. Over time this short creative piece has started to develop.

The day fades, the cochlear implant removed,

induces phantom sounds—

of a train horn—

the ringing of nothing—

the call of loons—

the barking of dogs—

and random white noise.

So I surf the net- hanging out-to distract myself,

a new face appears—

a tiny hint of a smile…

breathe, I said–

you got up, returned and the fan gently blew—

a few wisps of red hair—

‘Hot’ you said…and went away.