A Sheltered Hum

I leaned forward, stepping with slow, deliberate weight until the ceiling lowered into the shadow beneath the sideboard. Down here, the air was cool and still. A low, rhythmic thrum vibrated directly through the baseboard—steady, like a distant pulse humming in the walls. I pressed one thick arm flat against the floor, letting the tremble climb into my chest. ...Hrrn. I tilted slightly, tapping a single knuckle against the dark wood. The floor hummed back in answer. It is quiet here, and the ground holds still.