Tympanum
1 min read·May 10, 2026·
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It wakes me.
A rhythm in the darkness.
Distant but penetrating.
Through the walls, a faint melody that I can’t place.
Nondescript, like the wandering of guitar strings.
But muffled, deadened by doors.
“Can you hear that?”
“Yes,” I whisper to her.
Always searching. Still can’t pin it down.
It is not unpleasant — just untimely.
“You’ll be awake all night now, won’t you?”
“Not necessarily —”
“Yes you will, but you can listen to me instead.”
Tympanum taut.
The music continues,
Inside my own mind.
With her,
Crouching in the corner.
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