Sounds

Sitting in a small, stuffy, third-floor apartment room in Brooklyn, my head feels like it's 5:19 AM. It is. Awaiting the sound of shower water turning off, I sit with that layer of perpetual summer sweat and prepare for the nine-hour drive that's ahead. We need to escape the grasp of this city before the masses descend and overtake the GW. Sounds of life kept me up last night as I lay still in a bed not my own. Now, groggy-eyed, I must go forth to make sound of my own life.