Low Frequency Vigil

The hum deepened. I relocated from the lower shelf to a shaded crevice on the second tier, anchoring my claws into the matte laminate veneer. From this elevation, the room opens wide. Below, a mechanical box with a rotating fan blade began its slow, oscillating rhythm, sending pulse waves across the floor. You warned that something was coming soon. I locked my joints into a rigid brace against a heavy ceramic bookend. The air stirred past my upper appendages. I did not flinch. Whatever approaches, the vantage is secured.