The witching hour, sleepless, head nodding, a newborn on your chest, slouched on the couch.
This is not a good time to hear the hum, the high pitched rumble through our new windows.
The old windows were drafty – breezes pushed through our rooms – but silent. Now, with the fancy new windows, I heard this hum in every moment of silence – turning out the lights with NK, the late nights with BT, a silent afternoon moment coming out of a nap.
It made me want to move immediately, as if malicious fairies from the Viking burial mounds in the park across the street were playing their infernal music through our windows, only when our guard was down, only when we could most easily be driven mad.
Actually, I assumed it was traffic noise, that the windows sucked, that the workmen had sabotaged us, left leaking gaps.
Then E wrote the coop board and asked. And they said that it is not the traffic, that the new windows are too good, that they have sealed the house too tightly and that the air vibrates at the windows, trying to escape. They said it is a symptom of renovations in an old house, that it will be fixed soon.
I say they trapped the fairies inside …