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~
During his morning reading, Monk is jogged out of himself by an explosion of Children's voices...
At first, he is merely annoyed, but the realization takes hold that he cannot remember the last time he has heard such a thing - what you might hear on an elementary school playground during recess. He lets himself fall into the sweet illusion of revisiting his childhood's past, when all the world and it's dreams were still open to him, when living and playing was forever.
A boy counts loudly from one to seven, and then there is a volcanic eruption of little boy and little girl voices, as some childhood game is afoot. They are shouting and playing, and then whining and fighting...
Although it's pleasing the way children play, Monk still wishes that they would just go away, and leave him to his dying.
[Sorry for the maudlin note in the end, as it is done more in art.]
During his morning reading, Monk is jogged out of himself by an explosion of Children's voices...
At first, he is merely annoyed, but the realization takes hold that he cannot remember the last time he has heard such a thing - what you might hear on an elementary school playground during recess. He lets himself fall into the sweet illusion of revisiting his childhood's past, when all the world and it's dreams were still open to him, when living and playing was forever.
A boy counts loudly from one to seven, and then there is a volcanic eruption of little boy and little girl voices, as some childhood game is afoot. They are shouting and playing, and then whining and fighting...
Although it's pleasing the way children play, Monk still wishes that they would just go away, and leave him to his dying.
[Sorry for the maudlin note in the end, as it is done more in art.]
