Chapter 11 Silent World

• As I step out of the cigarette store, the familiar chime of the door echoes softly behind me. I pull out a cigarette from the pack nestled in my coat pocket, feeling the cool metal of the lighter in my hand. With practiced ease, I flick it open and bring a flame to life.
• Leaning against the storefront, I take a long drag, letting the smoke swirl in my lungs. The street is alive with movement and chatter, but to me, it's all silent. Born deaf and unable to speak, I've never known the sound of laughter or the melody of a song. Yet, I've found my own peace in this quiet world where words are felt rather than heard.
• As I exhale a cloud of smoke, memories of my childhood flicker through my mind. Growing up without sound had its challenges, but I learned to communicate through gestures, expressions, and writing. My parents enrolled me in a school for the deaf, where I found a community that understood me.