I never liked my soda in cans. I've always made a big deal of it, it always makes Mom riled up.

I could hear her pour my soda into a glass as my chin rests on the counter. I could hear the clink of the ice cubes as she dropped them in. The crush of the can as she throws it in the trash.

I could hear her laugh as I greedily drank up my soda. Hand in my hair, kisses on head.

Now, I can't hear anything.

No more clinks, no more splashes of soda, no more crushing, no sound. I can't hear myself scream so I'll scream louder.

                                   ~

Its getting warmer, I don't need to hear to know summer is right around the corner.

Mom pours me more soda, and I whine when I don't hear the cubes. She laughs as she sets down my drink, and I yearn to hear it.

She kneels down next to me, she makes a heart out of her hands, I make one back.

She kisses me and runs her hands through my hair as I sip the soda.

Maybe it's only the wind, but I feel hope in the air.