The House Only Sings When It Rains

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com.

It’s quiet most of the time. Not just ‘middle of the woods’ quiet. There’s a hush surrounding the building. Birdsong is never strident. Wind doesn’t howl, merely murmurs. Animal calls sound miles away even when I can see the critter. And inside there are no creaky floorboards, dropped objects sound like they landed in velvet, and anything you say comes out soft.

Peaceful.

That first night here I relearned what it’s like to truly breathe, and realised I hadn’t inhaled properly in… probably since I moved back to take care of my parents.

I shouldn’t be happy that my mother died. Shouldn’t want to add ‘finally’ to it. She was only fifty-eight, after all. That’s not ‘finally died’. She still had all her facilities and everything.

Especially her words. She had all her words, right until the end.

Then dad insisted we sell the house. Sell everything he couldn’t take to a home. He wanted me to finish my degree, but I was too worn down. Tapped out. Wrapped in baggage I couldn’t see but always felt.

He gave me the money anyway. Told me to find what I needed.

Next morning I opened the paper and saw the advert for this place. Nice big property. Excellent condition. In fact, it never needs patching up.

But it needs someone living in it. The caretaker wouldn’t tell me why, just made me sign that I’d get a house sitter if I couldn’t be here overnight.

I wasn’t in the mood for travelling anyway.

Clouds are rolling in. Spring’s wet around here. I make tea and stoke the fire.

Waiting.

Ah, there it is; the first breathy murmurs in the corners. They freaked me out at first. No wonder the agency looked for tenants in the summer.

Now, though… I lean back, smiling, and hum along.

It’s an erratic, meandering song. I don’t know enough music theory to know if it follows any. But after hearing it near constantly throughout the autumn, whispers for the drizzly days and full song as the rain pounded down, I learned how it goes.

Being able to join in feels special. Like I’ve been accepted.

As drops turn to drizzle the murmurs grow. No longer a duet we’re now a chorus. Our song lilts and thrums to a heartbeat I can almost hear. To a breath I swear surrounds me. To a life I’m now part of.

How could I have thought it eerie? It’s so beautiful.

We sing truths too deep for words, joy so pure it cannot be understood, loneliness absolute beyond expression.

I add another log to the fire and watch how the flames waver in time to the house’s ethereal breathing, creating shadows which echo the motions across the whole room. Dancers for our choir.

Lightning flashes outside the window but thunder doesn’t dare intrude.

Looks like the rain will be here all night. Used to be I’d need earplugs to sleep, but now… now the song is a lullaby.

Prompt was “Heavy rain, cracked windows, and a forgotten song.”