Here I was, being all domestic and cutting up an onion in the kitchen, and this quiet sort of constant hum asserts itself on my awareness. I don’t really notice it for a while, cooking happily and blinking away onion-tears, but then I realize that it is getting louder. My directional hearing has never been very good, so I am not surprised that I can’t really identify where it is coming from. I assume it is a sound from outside somewhere and move on to crushing garlic in a damn poor excuse for a garlic crusher. As I listen to the ambient sounds of the house, I realize that this noise sounds something like a motor. In fact, it sounds remarkably like a small motor boat, skimming over water, complete with the pulsing rhythm as it skids over waves. For almost a whole second, my brain is satisfied with that answer. There must be someone boating. That’s fine.
There is no body of water within miles of here that could support that kind of boating, never mind within earshot through closed doors. What the hell could it be? Then suddenly… It stops. I shrug and move on with my life, stirring spicy things into my pot of pungent mush. I go into the living room to check up in the internet, when all of a sudden: BANG! - from above me. What the hell was that? Is the woman upstairs throwing furniture? Then comes a terrible sound like the house is going to come crashing down on my head - Have I told my family that I love them lately? I’m about to be crushed by the two upper stories of my house. Should I try and make my peace with god? The bookshelves are shaking, the light fixtures are trembling, the whole building is about to come down, I’m sure. - Oh no, wait. That’s a vacuum cleaner.
*Aside from my conversation with my most faithful reader, of course.