The House, Part 8/x

It took me a few days to realize the absence of one particular type of noise from outside: birdsong.  I have no objection to birdsong, understand. Obviously, it is merely the monotonous repetition of certain sounds, with no beauty or relevance to humanity save what we impose on it.  But I am not offended that such a thing might exist, and the noises are rarely annoying enough to hinder me from sleeping, or enjoying actual art, or doing anything else, really.  So I felt neither apprehension nor relief in the realization that no birds sang anywhere near the house.

But I did find it interesting.  And, once I paid more attention, I noticed that there were no squirrels near my house, either. No birds, no ‘woodland creatures,’ not even small lizards or frogs.  Which meant that the area should have been literally crawling with bugs, of course; but there was nary a spiderweb or a wasps’ nest to be seen. Even my neighbors did not have ‘bug zappers’ or other grisly amusements on their own properties.

And there was not a single family with a pet who lived within two blocks of the house.  Well, as far as I could tell. I was not about to start looking through windows.


  • Phil Smith says:

    FWIW I’ve been interested but not invested until now but the narrator’s voice just became very interesting. He’s not just an elitist snob, he’s a borderline personality.

    • Moe_Lane says:

      Interesting. I’m sorry, though, because I think that I may not not know what the technical term means: ‘borderline personality?’

      • Phil Smith says:

        I might be using the wrong term. He has poor to no relationships. His sense of identity is overemphasized. He’s not necessarily a sociopath, but he’s not far from it.

        It’s the lack of reaction to birdsong, while overemphasizing the value of “art” that triggered that reaction. He’s just not quite right.

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