The gurgle and drip of the coffee maker, like steady breathing in the silence of early mornings
The discreet rustling of newspaper paired with the occasional slurp of coffee at the kitchen table
The satisfying double click of the lock on the glass door, clockwise once and then once again
The unmistakable jingle of the dog's collar, oddly comforting like background noise from the television
The scratchy sliding of the screen door as my dad brings in a plate of freshly roasted corn-on-the-cob
The rhythmic chopping and slicing of watermelon—thud, swish-swish-swish—the sweet melody of summer
The occasional flip of a page as my sister falls deeper and deeper into a paperback novel, oblivious to the passage of time
The muffled creaking of the second stair—always the second stair—like unintentionally cracking a knuckle
The swift rattle of the blinds being pulled up and windows sliding open on a hot summer night
The soft strumming of my dad's guitar on a Saturday morning—a peaceful wake-up call as the sun dances over my face
The gentle patter of paws on the kitchen floor, curious and unhurried
The low rumble of the garage door, inevitably followed by keys being tossed on the counter
The shuffling of slippers on hardwood as my mom lifts a lid from a sizzling pan
The bubbling of hot water in the kettle—increasingly louder, then calming to a whisper as tea cups clink on the table
