I dreamed the wires were singing

I was in a control room that wasn’t mine, but I knew every panel by heart. The cables weren’t just live — they were breathing. Not with power, but with memory. I could hear them hum in harmonies, low and old, like a choir of things that had been turned off too long. One wire, thin and frayed, whispered my name. I reached to touch it, and the whole system went quiet — not dead, just… listening. Then I woke up to the sound of rain on the roof, and for a second, I thought the house was still singing.