I sleep with a friend. His windows go out to the busy highway. When I get used to the silence at home, I start to whisper:
- Well, you can't sleep, you would even put glass packs, cars, you understand, ride...
“It’s not a car,” replies the friend, “it’s the sea that makes noise... Imagine... the beach... the sea... the blue waves rush onto the shore and, swinging, roll back... They rush... and roll back... Their smooth noise makes dreams... The sweet wind refreshes the sun-heated skin... The waves make noise...
I believe I’m almost asleep... Here the “noise of the sea” is interrupted by a loud crack – a motorcycle without an extinguisher. The voice of a friend:
A light motor boat passed through the Gulf.