Sebastian scuffed his shoe against a mark on the granite floor, looking up as John emerged from the washroom. The sniper ran his eyes up and down along the doctor, checking for any last-minute fixups. He reached out and straightened John’s tie a smidgen before clapping him on the shoulder. “You’ll do fine, mate,” he reassured his nervous friend, “If we can handle Afghanistan, you can handle one measly little hearing.”
John chuckled, “Yeah, sure, but Afghanistan wasn’t in front of a judge and audience!” He licked his lip, gaze falling somewhere past Seb’s knee. “And somehow, it feels like more is at stake here. Silly, yeah? One man’s honor, more important than an entire country?”
Sebastian only smiled grimly. “Depends on the man,” he offered gently. It had been a rough few months, watching John work to undo everything that Jim had orchestrated. Almost everything, anyway. He couldn’t undo the most important part.
Lestrade, flanked on both sides by very stern-looking lawyers, was ushered in to the courtroom, and exchanged nervous glances with John and Seb as he was rushed on by. A roar of intermittent chatter emerged as the doors opened, and a few flashbulbs went off. John cringed at the sight and steeled himself for a similar onslaught. A reassuring little push at the small of his back sent him in that direction. One last glance back, and Seb shot him a thumbs-up. “I’ll be in the back, mate. Go knock ’em dead.”
Impaired, disability wonderful sense out of the five, seems the most important to anyone who listens to music. Can’t imagine what it would be like to live without it. Sometimes I wonder if I am really hearing everything that goes on around me.
I’d wish you’d stop fidgeting. Stop pulling threads on the bottom of the suit jacket. The judge is staring you down and he knows you’re lying. He knows you’re lying.
Hearing, an amazing skill. It can make or break you or anyone. Hearing good things can make your life the best you have ever known. Hearing horrible things and ruin it completely. It can make relationships and it can destroy relationships… just hearing the few right or wrong words can change your life forever. There are rules to hearing things. You shouldn’t believe everything you hear. You shouldn’t ignore everything you hear. It isn’t a joke when you hear important or serious things, but you should let people hear bad jokes about serious or important things. It can affect anyone and everyone. It can bring pain and sorrow, it can bring happiness and joy. It all depends on what you say, how you say it, who you hear it from, and who you say it to.
I love to hear the birds chirping in the morning! I love to hear the good things people say about me! I love to hear just because I am able to talk, because if you can’t hear, you can’t talk! But sometimes I don’t like to hear cussing, loud arguments and stuff like that, makes me sad!!!!
What use was he? His senses heightened yet numbed. What good could he do? He heard the ringing, constant and ever present, all around him, a gong tolling his fate.
The blast was blurred. The memory faded. But the scars remained. And he was numb to all, deaf to more than just the world around. The voice of God was quieted. The hand of Fate was stayed.
when i hear a story from my grandma about how she grew up just eating those things that i cant remember she she says we children these days are so lucky because she would sometimes eat wood shavings which is sooo weird and gross to be honest.
when you hear something its sound coming in your ears. hearing is the same thing as sound and sound is one of your five senses. Some people cant hear and those people are called deaf. I dont know what i would do if i couldnt hear. People that are deaf, use sign language to communicate with peole because they dont know how to speak words.
A truly blessed gift. It allows us to hear the belly laugh of a baby, a beautiful piece of music and our loved ones telling us they love us. A precious gift from God.
Hearing. What was he hearing? Or what was he not hearing in his own thinking, Jensen thought. What was he missing? Was he blind? The Ninja babe was there for him. He could see it. She was there. But something was in his hearing…something…
i was hearing to the music when some cherished thought filled my attic, those days when could have been together but that was not to be, a tear fell from my eye for the unseen land where the heart blossomed,.
Waves crashed along the jagged obsidian rocks lining the maw of the bay. Hear the roar, the sound of tempest, of the ocean angry and resolute with Mother Nature at its back.
I’ve been hearing what you’ve been saying and I don’t like it. Poison mouth, arsenic tipped teeth spilling toxic. Telling lies was all you were ever truly good at, so don’t hate me for never believing a single breath from you.
If she could hear you now, if she could know, would you tell her?
Would you tell her you find someone else? Yes, she said that she wanted you to continue your life and to be happy, but did she mean this?
Hearing her voice after a long time made me feel like heaven, its not that she had been away or anything. A naughty jump from the top of the stairs, a bad landing and a gnashed cortex. In coma, she lay for all these months and me waiting for my kid to talk to me.
the hearing was horrible. the smiling faces in front of her could barely hide the snarting and there was this tired fly always trying to land on her right hand.
This is what makes the world go around without hearing no one would understand I believe that hearing is the key to life it allows peole to get places and not let things get unfortunate it’s by only to do with PRople who aren’t deaf but it involves everyone
The young boy listens to his mother and his older sister fight. The boy is eight years old, and does not understand certain words that are spoken more viciously than others, like they were acrid, like they needed to be spit quickly out of the mouth. Words like: resentment, cruelty, abusive, rape. The last word is repeated over and over again in a variety of ways. It is hissed, it is moaned, it is abandoned. The boy watches from a darkened hallway and is not seen, in spite of his hoping to be noticed. He gives substance to the shadows. The boy is under the misguided impression that if he walks into the living room the fighting will cease, that someone will embrace him. He was having a nightmare. He left the room to be comforted. In his dream, hands and arms dripped from the ceiling like tar and held down his arms and his legs, they covered his mouth and his eyes. When he awoke he didn’t scream or thrash his sheets but gasped for air, as though he’d been holding his breath, as though the dream with the hands was all the more real. That’s when he walked into the living room. That’s when he learned for the first time how much weight could be pushed from someone’s mouth, how everything could change with a single utterance, a confession, a cry, one for help or attention. And with this newfound understanding the boy speaks. He says, “I,” and then stops. He looks back and forth between his mother and his sister who have both stopped their fighting to stare at him. They say nothing. No one says anything. The boy has merely made mention to his existence, to his presence in the room, and the silence carries the rest. The silence, he learns, explains everything.
I’m not hearing what you’re saying, not one word of it. All I can think about is that time when my dog ran away and you drove around with me for three hours in the dark until my mom called and said that the neighbor had found her, and I was sobbing and expecting the worst and you held my hand the entire time and yelled her name almost louder than I was. And now what you’re saying is, “I think it’s time for us to go our separate ways,” and I feel like I aught to apologize to you, say, “oh, that’s okay, it’s not like I believe in true love or anything,” because you shouldn’t be feeling bad about this like I can tell you are. I knew this was coming, I guess, somewhere deep inside my heart, but now all my heart is saying is, I hate you I hate you you asshole I hate you, and I’m trying not to hear it.
Voices, words, thoughts, and idea all whispered around her mind like mental images of someone else’s past. She tried to piece them together but could never concentrate on one thought long enough to hear its meanings. The voices kept speaking and she kept listening.
It was as if I were hearing his words through a thin film of plastic, or if a layer of gauze were wrapped around my eyes as well. I hesitated and reached up to touch my face, feeling empty crevices the shape of obsidian.
The hear is a sense. Its a sense that isn’t easily translated into a noun, just like seeing is to sight and smelling is to smell. Hearing is an action, and isn’t passive. It takes practice, hearing. Some people get PAID to hear. As in it’s their job.
He had left his window slightly ajar again.
The sounds came, wafting one by one out of the old dilapidated barn behind the house. Wind chimes, the enthusiastic clinking of glasses, the spattering of roasting meat, and the scratchy song of a gramophone. He stared up at the darkened ceiling, and when he strained his hearing to the very edge of its limits, he almost thought he heard laughter and the whiney of a horse tangling into the night breeze.
He froze in his bed, absolutely sure now that he heard excited human voices.
His family had completely boarded up the barn nearly fifty prior.
Hearing is a great gift from God. I respect it a lot. It lets you listen to Gospels, speeches, and even storytelling. Without it, we could not vote for the right person or know the voice of our relatives. Hearing may be the best gift God gave us.
Sometimes I have really great hearing and sometimes I can’t seem to hear anything at all. Although I tend to hear a lot most of the time, I’m not quite sure if I’ve really listened. I’m not sure if anyone here really listens. Instead of just hearing, maybe we should learn to listen too.
Sebastian scuffed his shoe against a mark on the granite floor, looking up as John emerged from the washroom. The sniper ran his eyes up and down along the doctor, checking for any last-minute fixups. He reached out and straightened John’s tie a smidgen before clapping him on the shoulder. “You’ll do fine, mate,” he reassured his nervous friend, “If we can handle Afghanistan, you can handle one measly little hearing.”
John chuckled, “Yeah, sure, but Afghanistan wasn’t in front of a judge and audience!” He licked his lip, gaze falling somewhere past Seb’s knee. “And somehow, it feels like more is at stake here. Silly, yeah? One man’s honor, more important than an entire country?”
Sebastian only smiled grimly. “Depends on the man,” he offered gently. It had been a rough few months, watching John work to undo everything that Jim had orchestrated. Almost everything, anyway. He couldn’t undo the most important part.
Lestrade, flanked on both sides by very stern-looking lawyers, was ushered in to the courtroom, and exchanged nervous glances with John and Seb as he was rushed on by. A roar of intermittent chatter emerged as the doors opened, and a few flashbulbs went off. John cringed at the sight and steeled himself for a similar onslaught. A reassuring little push at the small of his back sent him in that direction. One last glance back, and Seb shot him a thumbs-up. “I’ll be in the back, mate. Go knock ’em dead.”
Impaired, disability wonderful sense out of the five, seems the most important to anyone who listens to music. Can’t imagine what it would be like to live without it. Sometimes I wonder if I am really hearing everything that goes on around me.
when you here something, using one of your five senses.
ear
ring
gear
hi
her
hair
hen
ran
rain
grain
hear
are
near
gin
I’d wish you’d stop fidgeting. Stop pulling threads on the bottom of the suit jacket. The judge is staring you down and he knows you’re lying. He knows you’re lying.
Hearing, an amazing skill. It can make or break you or anyone. Hearing good things can make your life the best you have ever known. Hearing horrible things and ruin it completely. It can make relationships and it can destroy relationships… just hearing the few right or wrong words can change your life forever. There are rules to hearing things. You shouldn’t believe everything you hear. You shouldn’t ignore everything you hear. It isn’t a joke when you hear important or serious things, but you should let people hear bad jokes about serious or important things. It can affect anyone and everyone. It can bring pain and sorrow, it can bring happiness and joy. It all depends on what you say, how you say it, who you hear it from, and who you say it to.
I love to hear the birds chirping in the morning! I love to hear the good things people say about me! I love to hear just because I am able to talk, because if you can’t hear, you can’t talk! But sometimes I don’t like to hear cussing, loud arguments and stuff like that, makes me sad!!!!
ears
talk
speech
senses
sound
music
when you hear something. When someone makes a sound you hear it. you hear sounds all the time.
What use was he? His senses heightened yet numbed. What good could he do? He heard the ringing, constant and ever present, all around him, a gong tolling his fate.
The blast was blurred. The memory faded. But the scars remained. And he was numb to all, deaf to more than just the world around. The voice of God was quieted. The hand of Fate was stayed.
when i hear a story from my grandma about how she grew up just eating those things that i cant remember she she says we children these days are so lucky because she would sometimes eat wood shavings which is sooo weird and gross to be honest.
when you hear something its sound coming in your ears. hearing is the same thing as sound and sound is one of your five senses. Some people cant hear and those people are called deaf. I dont know what i would do if i couldnt hear. People that are deaf, use sign language to communicate with peole because they dont know how to speak words.
Hearing is what happens when something is making noise and your brain interprets the sound. Like you hear a cat meow, a dog bark and a bird chirp.
People that cant hear are troubled. Being able to hear is a blessing and it actually is good.
hearing takes you heart tentative attention
hearing is fun to do. you listen to all kinds of things. Dogs, cats, all kinds of animals. You listen to different sounds in the world.
hearing is who people communicate.
sound is loud, silent maybe ut then again silence is golden like jewelry and it could be quiet and dull like a dried out gray paint.
A truly blessed gift. It allows us to hear the belly laugh of a baby, a beautiful piece of music and our loved ones telling us they love us. A precious gift from God.
Hearing. What was he hearing? Or what was he not hearing in his own thinking, Jensen thought. What was he missing? Was he blind? The Ninja babe was there for him. He could see it. She was there. But something was in his hearing…something…
i was hearing to the music when some cherished thought filled my attic, those days when could have been together but that was not to be, a tear fell from my eye for the unseen land where the heart blossomed,.
Waves crashed along the jagged obsidian rocks lining the maw of the bay. Hear the roar, the sound of tempest, of the ocean angry and resolute with Mother Nature at its back.
Shhhhh……I want to taste the colour purple in my shiraz.
Listen!…. Can you hear the wine breathe?
I’ve been hearing what you’ve been saying and I don’t like it. Poison mouth, arsenic tipped teeth spilling toxic. Telling lies was all you were ever truly good at, so don’t hate me for never believing a single breath from you.
If she could hear you now, if she could know, would you tell her?
Would you tell her you find someone else? Yes, she said that she wanted you to continue your life and to be happy, but did she mean this?
Hearing her voice after a long time made me feel like heaven, its not that she had been away or anything. A naughty jump from the top of the stairs, a bad landing and a gnashed cortex. In coma, she lay for all these months and me waiting for my kid to talk to me.
what is your love language?
the hearing was horrible. the smiling faces in front of her could barely hide the snarting and there was this tired fly always trying to land on her right hand.
Input controls output. What we hear makes us think, innovate, and challenge.
This is what makes the world go around without hearing no one would understand I believe that hearing is the key to life it allows peole to get places and not let things get unfortunate it’s by only to do with PRople who aren’t deaf but it involves everyone
The young boy listens to his mother and his older sister fight. The boy is eight years old, and does not understand certain words that are spoken more viciously than others, like they were acrid, like they needed to be spit quickly out of the mouth. Words like: resentment, cruelty, abusive, rape. The last word is repeated over and over again in a variety of ways. It is hissed, it is moaned, it is abandoned. The boy watches from a darkened hallway and is not seen, in spite of his hoping to be noticed. He gives substance to the shadows. The boy is under the misguided impression that if he walks into the living room the fighting will cease, that someone will embrace him. He was having a nightmare. He left the room to be comforted. In his dream, hands and arms dripped from the ceiling like tar and held down his arms and his legs, they covered his mouth and his eyes. When he awoke he didn’t scream or thrash his sheets but gasped for air, as though he’d been holding his breath, as though the dream with the hands was all the more real. That’s when he walked into the living room. That’s when he learned for the first time how much weight could be pushed from someone’s mouth, how everything could change with a single utterance, a confession, a cry, one for help or attention. And with this newfound understanding the boy speaks. He says, “I,” and then stops. He looks back and forth between his mother and his sister who have both stopped their fighting to stare at him. They say nothing. No one says anything. The boy has merely made mention to his existence, to his presence in the room, and the silence carries the rest. The silence, he learns, explains everything.
Hearing is very helpful for us as we are language learners. I want to get a good job in any place at least with 10,000 salary.
I’m not hearing what you’re saying, not one word of it. All I can think about is that time when my dog ran away and you drove around with me for three hours in the dark until my mom called and said that the neighbor had found her, and I was sobbing and expecting the worst and you held my hand the entire time and yelled her name almost louder than I was. And now what you’re saying is, “I think it’s time for us to go our separate ways,” and I feel like I aught to apologize to you, say, “oh, that’s okay, it’s not like I believe in true love or anything,” because you shouldn’t be feeling bad about this like I can tell you are. I knew this was coming, I guess, somewhere deep inside my heart, but now all my heart is saying is, I hate you I hate you you asshole I hate you, and I’m trying not to hear it.
Voices, words, thoughts, and idea all whispered around her mind like mental images of someone else’s past. She tried to piece them together but could never concentrate on one thought long enough to hear its meanings. The voices kept speaking and she kept listening.
It was as if I were hearing his words through a thin film of plastic, or if a layer of gauze were wrapped around my eyes as well. I hesitated and reached up to touch my face, feeling empty crevices the shape of obsidian.
I hear everything, selectively. Hear the ocean, hear the music, but never listen to what anyone says. Life is pleasant like this.
The hear is a sense. Its a sense that isn’t easily translated into a noun, just like seeing is to sight and smelling is to smell. Hearing is an action, and isn’t passive. It takes practice, hearing. Some people get PAID to hear. As in it’s their job.
sitting in court listening to the charges laid out against my former lover and co-conspirator.
its going to be a long day
He had left his window slightly ajar again.
The sounds came, wafting one by one out of the old dilapidated barn behind the house. Wind chimes, the enthusiastic clinking of glasses, the spattering of roasting meat, and the scratchy song of a gramophone. He stared up at the darkened ceiling, and when he strained his hearing to the very edge of its limits, he almost thought he heard laughter and the whiney of a horse tangling into the night breeze.
He froze in his bed, absolutely sure now that he heard excited human voices.
His family had completely boarded up the barn nearly fifty prior.
Hearing is a great gift from God. I respect it a lot. It lets you listen to Gospels, speeches, and even storytelling. Without it, we could not vote for the right person or know the voice of our relatives. Hearing may be the best gift God gave us.
Sometimes I have really great hearing and sometimes I can’t seem to hear anything at all. Although I tend to hear a lot most of the time, I’m not quite sure if I’ve really listened. I’m not sure if anyone here really listens. Instead of just hearing, maybe we should learn to listen too.