The Physics of Overflow

 

I would love to be quiet. You really don’t know this, because you hear me talk so much, the words pouring out of my mouth uncontrollably like a bucket, almost full, which, when tipped a little too far, succumbs to the physics of overflow.

In the morning when I wake up or sometimes before sleep at night, I think to myself that it would be good to make less noise. How strange, you might think, that in the racket of this city, my own voice is what deafens me.