The floor creaked as I walked the hall last night. Our floors creak easily.
I like creaks.
I have always found them comforting.
I got to wondering what other people thought about creaks in the floor.
This creak was right in front of Ferris’ room. He is home for the summer and fresh off finals, so sleep grabbed him early.
I wondered if he heard these creaks. The creaks of his mom and me paddling about getting ready for bed. Perhaps they woke him slightly, or perhaps they were simply unconsciously noted. I wondered if they comforted him. Those cuddly sounds of home.
I wondered about people who might not like creaks. Imagine the tiny victim of child abuse cringing at the creak of approaching terror.
I wondered about those who might think to fix the creaks- and of course wondered how they might fix them.
I would not fix them.
To me… these creaks are part of the sounds and smells and tactile feelings of home.
These creaks bring me joy.