On Saturday night, I woke up vividly and immediately at 12:40. Someone was snoring. Not a grunt-like snore, one of those slightly louder-than-heavy-breathing snores; the intake of air, the pause, and the spiral of released air. My first thought was that Cathy had arrived, and they had put her in my room by mistake. But no, she wasn’t even supposed to come for another hour or so, although I jumped up and checked the other beds. Of course, I realized, I have the only key and I locked the door (which I ran to check), so no one could get in. I must have just dreamed it. So I lay back in bed, and listened to the other ambient noises. Cars driving by, birds chirping, the steady whirr of the fan . . . there it was again. Breathing in, breathing out. Was it outside the window? Why was it so loud? Was it my fan? But my fan had its uninterrupted buzz (I’m sorry, I already used whirr, and I don’t think any other words describe fan action). And why was the sound so creepily human?
So I turned my fan off. The sound disappeared. I turned it back on, nothing, and then . . . there it was.
I HAVE A SNORING FAN.
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