Last night I heard sirens. Although being almost 10 miles away from the nearest road, I knew that this was impossible, that I was hearing phantom noises.
At every house and apartment I've lived in in San Francisco, I would hear sirens almost every night. The sound was always a stressful reminder of the fragility of life. Although in this context, the sound seemed different to me. Even though there was no real such noise, it was comforting, as though help would be nearby if needed.
In truth, there was complete silence. Maybe I was hearing these phantom sirens because my brain couldn't comprehend a silence so pure. Maybe my mind knew that I was a little frightened of being alone in the woods, and it wanted to calm me, so it created a noise synonymous with home.
Whatever the cause, I eventually drifted off to sleep to a nonexistent chorus of ambulances.
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