The Screamers
We sat, silently at the table, without much to say at that particular moment.
The younger, in his highchair, was screeching in disgust at something. The older was outside, yet near and loud enough to actively participate in the noise. Nothing seemed to interrupt either from stating their case to anyone within earshot.
She and I sat, overloaded and exhausted, pondering what to do next. The cacophony grew to a loud shrill. Still we sat.
Finally, she looked at me and deadpanned: “If they didn’t scream… that would be better.”