Till It's Gone

A story about a man who realizes he must appreciate what he's got.

A man sits at his home desk, a coffee, and several papers lay before him. He struggles with his work grumpily, tapping his pencil on the table, biting his lip, anxiously concentrating. The sound of a News Report begins to get louder and louder, breaking his concentration. The News Report starts playing their ridiculous theme song and he gets up to shut off the TV. He returns to his work.  Suddenly the outburst of a car horn gives him a little jolt. He grumbles under his breath, and starts at his work. Again, another horn cry, and another jolt of shock. He waits a few seconds, listening to see if there's be another. When he decides there won't be he returns to his work, and immediately several horns start honking away and he jumps with surprise. He waits for them to end, and some time passes. He's now slouched in the chair, with his face in one hand. The honking ceases, and to his work he returns with relief. He begins to hear the birds outside singing a little bit, he looks up, and smiles. A few seconds later, a whole flock of birds start singing and again he's unable to concentrate. He tries to return to his work when the birds singing begins to fade, but immediately the sound of children playing starts coming in from outside. He's furious at this point. He gets up, walks over to the window and closes it, completely shutting off the sound. He wipes his hands happily, and returns to his work. Some time passes and he finishes his work. He lifts up a large stack of paper, and straightens them out happily. He leans back in his chair, closes his eyes and listens. However, there's nothing to listen to except dead silence. He looks a little puzzled, so gets up and opens his window, but still no sound. He turns on his TV, but no sound. He turns on his radio, but no sound. He tries to speak, but nothing. He runs outside his apartment and looks all around at the cars, people, birds and everything else, but no sound. Tears flow from his eyes.