When, an hour later, I looked up at a tree in response to a rustling noise, I half-expected to see salmon plummeting from the sky.
In addition to the rustling winds, I heard what sounded like distant rumbling, revving airplane engines, and scattered plucks played on hammered dulcimers.
LONG ISLAND CITY STUNNER WITH EAST RIVER VIEWS Once upon the 7 train bustling, Slightly vexed by some guy's rustling, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping.
By Kira Garcia November 6, 2014 LONG ISLAND CITY STUNNER WITH EAST RIVER VIEWS Once upon the 7 train bustling, Slightly vexed by some guy's rustling, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping.
I hear the rustle, and I hear the babies screaming in their carriages.
The warmest calm fell over me and I grabbed my children, who rustled as I pulled them close.
I sense that, even as I rustle the turning pages, I am steeling myself against what I might find there.
The almost imperceptible click as I unhook the cardboard seal of the crass red and white carton and the salty rustle as I tip the fries into the lid.
After many months, after my efforts to ignore the rustle collapsed, I asked a mechanic to look into the situation.
The hours drag by as my guide sighs in frustration with every rustle as I shift position to avoid the biting wind.
