The burring of the streetlight just outside his window would be his locus tonight. He imagined the quiet hum of it swelling until it muffled the sounds of the house. The harsh whispers of a woman's voice. The dull roar of a man's. A crash resounded from downstairs. A sharp smack like a palm hitting wood. The electric-flame in the streetlight flickered angrily in its vessel, building to a piercing scream until it all shattered in sparks, and he listened to the sound of glass shards tinkling against the cobbles, shifting his gaze to the next light in the row.