Deep Listening

The computer tower whirs below my desk. The buzz of something electric resonates like awful white noise around me. The dog yips from his spot in the garage. Probably at a toad. More likely because he heard a noise and has the need to make one in return. Still more buzzing. The floorboards groan. Old floor boards do that. The room down the hall emits a half snore, and the rustle of my brother rolling over in his bunk. The other dog barks. It's likely the shadow of a neighborhood cat taunting her. The furnace vent makes a pop and groan. It's a little cool tonight. Footsteps rush down the hallway and into the bathroom. A toothbrush rattles, scrubs for 25-30 seconds,humming of Adele music accompanies it, the water rushes down the fawcet and sink. The water stops. The light switch flips, and footsteps carry down the hall, and downstairs. The volume of silence is almost overwhelming it drags on. I hear only the hum of appliances and well, eerie absence of sounds that make the house alive. Will this silence end? It does. My ten minutes are up.