The Persistence of Echoes
After a head injury, a musician hears temporal sound layers in her building's stairwell—and discovers the growing discord warns of catastrophic elevator failure.
The stairwell has been composing itself for ninety-three years, and I'm the only one who can hear the symphony. Mrs. Chen's slippers from 4B murmur against the steps in 3/4 time, a soft waltz, bereaved and cautious, that commenced in 1987 when she first moved in. Underneath that melody, the thunderous bass notes, originating from the construction workers' boots, resonate within my bones, dating back to when they renovated...
