From the day
Perspective: The Teenager · Sound
The scratchy blare of "You’re a Grand Old Flag" echoes from the neighbor’s new Victrola, competing with the bally clatter of horseshoes on the cobblestones outside. I’m stuck indoors while those blockheads in the parlor argue over a relentless round of Rook, the snap of the legal bird cards hitting the mahogany table driving me mad. I can hear the newspaper boy shouting about Armstrong’s insurance bills over the hiss of the gas lamps, but all I want is to escape this racket. The air is thick with the scent of coal smoke and the promise of spring, if only the world would quiet down for a second.