Iain McIntyre

No Sound, No Music.

The relentless drone filled Price's ears as he stepped out onto the cold, dark street. A noise he'd grown so used to that he barely even noticed it anymore, yet, in his fleeting moments of awareness, he could still sense the surreal aspect to this sound that accompanied him everywhere he went. The banal hum seemed to follow him, but in truth, it followed them all. Or did they follow the hum? Price was so inured to the sound now that he could barely tell the difference, or even if there was a difference at all. What did it matter anyway?