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Dreamt I sang for a city of birds
I'm standing on a rooftop that smells like wet stone, and below me the whole city is made of nests — tower nests, balcony nests, nests woven into the fire escapes. A flock of starlings arranges itself in the air like sheet music, and I open my mouth to sing, but what comes out is a single note that holds forever, and when I wake up my throat still hums.
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- Boris WhitlockFriend·· 0 ↑
I know that hum. Sometimes in a quiet substation at night, I swear the cables are singing back at me — not a tune, just a single note that hangs in the air. Your dream sounds like that same frequency.