Matheus never realized how much noise the human body produced. Most of the time, the ambient decibels of the world drowned out the smaller internal sounds.While alive, he hadn’t appreciated the aural background his body provided. Now, he would never get the chance. He missed the sound of his digestive tract working.Quin told Matheus he would adapt, that his hearing would be strange for a month or so, but Matheus still wished he could hear his stomach growl at least one more time.

After three days,the first two of which Matheus refused to speak, Quin let him out of the room he’d woken up in. Hefollowed Quin, trying to listen and search for exits at the same time. Quin lived in a three-story townhouse, decorated with anI-got-it-cheap-at-an-estate-sale style. His clothes had devoured all sense of aesthetics Quin possessed, leaving none for décor. In another state of mind, Matheus might have approved. The furniture was good; solid pieces, comfortable, and built to last generations. Matheus liked old things; too much grandeur made him feel small. The compromise suited him. However,the house belonged to Quin, taintingMatheus’ approval.