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Mirrored from brigidkeely.com/wordpress.
My mother in law came over yesterday to pick Niko up to watch him for a few hours so I could get my stuff together and go tutor. I also took the time to pick up the living room a bit and tidy the kitchen a bit. And, you know, all the fun stuff it’s hard to do while wrangling a toddler, like “eat food.” Anyway! I walked into the kitchen and I heard a radio. “Oh,” I thought, “I must have left the radio on.”
I had not left the radio on.
Also, the sound wasn’t coming from the radio.
DUN.
DUN.
DUNNNNNNNN.
It actually sounded like it was coming from our utility room/enclosed back porch, which has no radio; or possibly from out of some kitchen cabinets where, I assure you, we do not keep a radio.
I figured it was the people upstairs, but when they listen to the radio it’s usually music and not soft talking and when they do listen to talk radio it’s in Spanish and this radio was not playing Spanish. Or English.
DUN.
DUN.
DUNNNNNNNN.
Also: they were not home and it had been quiet and they hadn’t come home in the mean time. Like, they hadn’t left a radio on and gone out. Rather, they’d gone out for the day and it was quiet upstairs and now? NOISES.
DUN.
DUN.
DUNNNNNNNN.
Ghosts obviously, right? Ghosts playing a spectral radio, listening to haunted talk radio! Right? Right?
No.
It was my father in law who was moving stuff around in the basement and listening to the radio. There is no ceiling down there, just pipes and then rafters and the subflooring for our apartment so sound travels pretty well.
Der.