There are the sounds in the loft.
And there are the sounds in the crawl space under the floor.
And there is the space in between with its own well known sounds.
I was providing a translation layer for the unknown sounds.
Not that I knew it.
Vibrations sent between disconnected transmitters and receivers passed through the known space.
Without the knowledge of the known space.
As if encrypted, like steganography, concealed within the apparent and unambiguous.
A portal for communication between distinct, detached, distant universes.
But now they’ve stopped.
I discovered their game.
And presented the unknown sounds with maximum entropy.
Switched off their life support.
And let them cool below atomic movement.
The loft is now silent.
And the crawl space is now quiet.
They won’t be coming back.
Unlike this tinnitus.
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