The Ocean

I tear at my ears, trying to find the cotton.  Only my cool skin, touches my finger tips.  Nothing's there.  The sound of the ocean drowns out everything. I look around, trying to figure out why I hear the ocean.  But I'm not on a beach. I'm at home, in my bed. But all I hear is the distance roar of the ocean.
Oh no. My worse fear realized.
I yell out a cry for help, but I don't hear anything but that blasted ocean. Holding my hands to my throat, I yell again.
Yes, I am actually yelling. I can feel the vibrations of my voice in my throat. I snap my fingers next to my ears. Nothing. I swallow, trying to clear whatever is stuck in my ears.  But still, no sounds
My husband comes running into the room, his lips moving. I shake my head and try to tell him that I can't hear him.  I'm not sure if my words come out right because he looks at me quizzically.
Slowly, his mouth forms the words.
There was an accident...
And the world slowly tips on its side.
Never again will I hear my love's voice.
Never will I hear my children's voices.
Never again will I hear music.
Never again will I dance.



(A random creative writing blurb.  This stems from my persistent, yet slow deterioration of my hearing and the fear that one day I'll wake and it will be gone completely.  This is what happens when I stay up late...I'm creative!)