The whine of the fan, rocking. Now softer now louder. I hope it doesn't crash in my sleep.
The pull-chain clinking against the light fixture. The longer one is the perfect length to achieve harmonic resonance so it swings wildly.
The groan of bedsprings.
Feet slap against cold faux wood flooring.
The floor creaks where the carpeting was laid down improperly.
Earrings tap together as I run around looking for a pair of sunglasses.
I turn the door handle. Small metal bits slide against one another. The door was cut a little too long, it drags against the carpet with a ffffff. A thud and a click and the door is shut.
A slight wind makes the trees go shhhh.
Scrapes and crackles as I walk down the driveway littered with pecan shells.
I rummage in my purse. Bits of plastic clack together. A bottle of ibuprofen rattles around. My keys jingle as I pull them out.
I press a button, four simultaneous clicks as the locks disengage.
My key grates against the pins in the lock. The car dings. I haven't put my seatbelt on. I turn the key, the car chugchugchugchugchugchugaWHOOMs into life.
The car gripes as I shift into drive. The air swishes around the car, twigs crunch under the tires.
A light eeee as I apply the breaks. I rummage in my purse again, pull out the face plate to my stereo, click it into place, and turn on some music.