She’s out. A white blouse, open shoes. Her heels clicks down the pavement. Too bad she can’t hear. There’s commotion down the streets. She’s a curious lady. She wanted to ask why, to stop people. But she’s scared, not adjusted to her sudden deafness. She looks nervously. Her darting eyes meet flapping lips, moving hands. To lovers, embracing. Are they lovers? Is she crying of happiness? Was she abused? She can’t ask, she can’t help. She cannot doing nothing, but walk. A car almost run her over. The driver shakes his head. She thinks he pities the poor ditsy blonde. Or she just “looks disabled”? Is her deafness such a visible status?
She fiddles with her cellphone, to distract herself. Seems full of calls. Unheard. Oddly enough, they come from other women, very few from males. She works mostly with women, though. So, they’re worried for her disappearance. Lots of SMS too, but she doesn’t read’em
Without looking much around she’s in front of the ENT . She thinks he would look into her ears, tell her what’s wrong