I set up a listening station, sat with headset and whispering machine, adjusted dials for Hz, KHz, MHz, aW.
When it has been raining, the tapes they bring me are hours of haze, like listening to clouds form, smoke filling with cinders.
Sometimes the silences are like waves rolling and breaking. Sometimes figures coalesce.
You hear a noise and you think it is a presence; but it is just emptiness, interference. You have made a mistake.
I hear your voice speaking and I do not know what I am to do with it.