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Silence is golden — sort of



After hours of packing too many cardboard boxes and several blisters later, I’m moved into my new place, and let me tell you, it’s lovely. I have more space than I know what to do with, everything is always tidy, and I can work at my kitchen table without fear of someone interrupting me, or a cat rudely depositing themselves on my keyboard. And everything is so quiet — no one frantically searching for keys, no cats yowling at each other, no babies screaming for blueberries. (Sorry, Alizah.) It’s perfect — almost.

The one complaint I have is that, sometimes, things go bump in the night. A jar shifts here, a door sighs there, and suddenly my body is on high alert. I’m the only one here — so who’s making noise in my kitchen at 2 a.m.? If it’s ghosts (and really, what else could it be?), I’d like it if they made their presence known in another way, and perhaps not in the middle of the night. I’m all for invisible house guests, but not if they’re interrupting my much needed sleep.

Image: Simer Haer/The Cascade

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