It’s almost never quiet in the city
there’s some short moments between 3 and 4 a.m. you might notice the final note of a distant voice
but then you start to hear other people
the illusion that I am living the dream is shattered, the noise has begun. I don’t have the luxury of choice, and so I live in a place that is within earshot of others
and not just any old earshot, but my ears, my brain, my auditory processing centre
my whole self, sits in the far corner with my back to the wall self, can hear the footsteps of someone walking across the gravel at the end of the street self
my earshot that has been keen and fine-tuned since it meant life or death, since forever, since I’ve been in the city
and my earshot that has been used to discern which value I am given by the person talking to, at, about me
my whole self that still gets people pointing, and saying things like, ‘Look at that’
so I like before the noise has begun.
Renay Barker-Mulholland is a proud Biripi Dunghutti, disabled woman. Renay is a self described Blak of all trades, who has been writing since she was able to hold a pen, and telling stories forever. Renay’s work aims to go beyond colonial barriers, and is an important part of her arts practice.