Room Tone

There's a sound a place makes when there's nobody talking in it.

Engineers record it on purpose. They call it room tone.

You need it, apparently. You can't cut anything together without it.

I've got about an hour of this one now.

It changed. That's the thing. It's a different sound than it was.

Same boiler. Same bus. Same gap under the door.

I couldn't tell you what moved. I just know that it did.

And I've started liking it.

Which I'm not supposed to say.

I'm meant to be rattling round in here —

and some days I am.

And some days it's just quiet,

and the quiet's mine,

and I don't tell anybody that.

My sister rings on the way home from work and she does the voice,

and I say I'm alright, and she doesn't believe me, and she's wrong.

I'm not being brave about it. I'm not doing well. I'm just here.

And the room's got a sound, and I've started to know it.

An hour of nothing.

Plays back lovely.