Harold’s world was colorful, scented, textured, and even flavored, but very quiet. Harold was born deaf.
This didn’t stop him. He was up and running the minute his legs could support him. he climbed to the highest branches to see the whole world. He built forts and ate ice cream and laughed at the Three Stooges just like the other boys. But he did it silently.
Today though, he rode his bike too far. He wasn’t lost, he knew how to get back, but he would be in trouble for it. His momma would look angrily at him and sign too fast and send him to the corner. He pedaled quickly toward home.
He never heard the bus honking. He didn’t really feel the pain, either, when it hit him. There was a blur of faces and blue suits and flashing lights. Then he woke in a hospital room, his momma holding his hand. He could smell disinfectant, and clearly see the nurses taking his vitals. But there was another sensation he couldn’t place.