The old radio hums softly, its metal case cold against my hand. It crackles and whispers, bringing fuzzy voices from far away. A distant car honks outside, sharp and clear compared to the radio’s muffled sound. I twist the knobs, searching for a stronger signal. The sound fades in and out, like a whispering wind. A voice speaks in broken sentences, words slurred as if drunk. It sounds sad, lonely even though no one else can hear it but me. Finally, there’s just static, like the sky on a stormy night. I turn off the radio, its light fading with it. The silence is thick now, heavy and cold.