I'm in the back yard of my house on maple avenue. I hear the constant whir of traffic on College road, the low chundering bass of mufflers mixes with the high whir of tires to asphalt, brakes intermittent high pitched whine, and the cacophony of different engine sound. A rhythmic staccato chirp of a songbird punctuated the drone of the distant traffic and the steady flow of wind through the leaves lulls me into a trance. I pass out and wake up with ants biting my ankles. It sucks.
