Tinnitus by Matt Enright
When did you first hear Them ? What were you doing ? The Voices . Such an ominous name . People wondered why we heard Them in stages . I didn ’ t really care . I was just happy I wasn ’ t insane , or if I was then at least so was everyone else .
It was evening that I heard it . A vague , nearly-inaudible hum . A bit like television static , only offkey somehow . The girls and Irene all agreed they didn ’ t hear anything . I remember checking the TVs , putting an ear to each . I did the same with the other electronics we had around the house , but discovered nothing . Later when I took the dog for her walk , I found the noise still with me and shrugged it off as a strange ringing-inthe-ears .
The noise didn ’ t pass , day-by-day increasing in volume , no faster than hair grows . After about a week , there were times I thought I could make out a stray word .
I found myself more and more in the tool shed , away from Irene and the girls , fingers plugging ears , trying to listen . I had slowly become sure of it . I had to focus with zen-like attention , but I could hear it . Beneath that thin , piping , metallic sound were voices .
I couldn ’ t make out what they were saying , or how many of them there were , the noise just barely within the limits of perception . There was very little I could catch . I could sometimes hear one talk over the other . I noticed their speech had that sort of rising and falling , back-and-forth quality of conversation .
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