Passage One
A few minutes ago, walking back from lunch, I started to cross the street when I heard the sound of a coin dropping. It wasn’t much hut, as I turned, my eyes caught the heads of several other people turning too. A woman had dropped what appeared to be a dime.
The tinkling sound of a coin dropping on pavement is an attention-getter. It can be nothing more than a penny. Whatever the coin is, no one ignores the sound of it. It got me thinking about sounds again.
We are besieged by so many sounds that attract the most attention. People in New York City seldom turn to look when a fire engine, a police car or an ambulance comes screaming along the street.
When I’m in New York, I’m a New Yorker. I don’t turn either. Like the natives. I hardly hear a siren there.
At home in my little town in Connecticut, it’s different. The distant wail of a police car, an emergency vehicle or a fire siren brings me
A. They make him feel at home.
B. He thinks they should be ignored.
C. He believes they are part of our lives.
D. He prefers silence to loud noises.
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