Industrial Music redux

I thought there might be a break in the noise, so I wrote a summative post. Then, five or six hours later, I was awakened by Krista prodding me.

“Hey, hearing-person—what is that noise?”

It sounded like an attack of crickets on crack. I went to the window, and it wasn’t coming from outside. I went into the living room. No, it wasn’t coming from there either—no technological malfunctions. I looked out the peep-hole in the door.

It seemed unlikely that someone was throwing a rave in the hallway this early in the morning, so I suspect that the flashing strobe lights and screaming crickets must mean that a fire alarm was going off. I saw a neighbor carrying out their trash, so I deduced that it must be a false alarm. I went back to bed, and explained the noise to the non-hearing person. Then, I lit a cigarette.

Krista got dressed and crutched to the door. She opened it, and then announced that everyone was standing outside in their pajamas. I caved, and decided that maybe I should get dressed. Then, I was seized with the impression that I smelled smoke. Krista suggested that we grab the laptops and go downstairs. I thought to myself that it’s become weird when the first thing you think of saving is a computer.

I opened the door and noticed that there were half-a-dozen firemen in the hall now. I asked what was up.

“Equipment malfunction, most likely.”

I then realized the smoke I was smelling probably came from my cigarette.