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The Man Who Heard
- Red Hen Press
- Chapter
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54 The Man Who Heard for Arpad Darazs They wanted to say something. They could feel it while sweeping the porch, driving to work or watching the red-tailed hawk circle overhead. In grocery stores and libraries their eyes met in brief, unexpected harmonies. Sometimes sounds erupted from their throats like the outbursts of children on a playground. Sometimes the sound behaved, coaxed to the shower, crooning. Then a man arrived who held this urge in the palms of his hands. In streets and buildings the voices found him, curling up at his feet. He led them to an empty room. There was no question, something in them wanted out, and they obeyed. When he raised his hands the voices awoke as from a dream, poised on the edge of a sound definite and clear he’d heard all along. He moved his hands and all those voices, separate and together, called to the hollow places in people for miles around. 55 When the singing stopped, the message was a thousand faces, silent for an instant in the dimness of the hall before their own prolonged outburst: We are here. We are one. [34.235.150.151] Project MUSE (2024-03-29 09:50 GMT) This page intentionally left blank. ...