The refrigerator hums softly in the kitchen. Its cool metal door stands open, revealing shelves filled with colorful containers and bottles. A blue carton of milk sits upright, its cap slightly askew. Inside, a red juice box squashes against another container, making a soft thud each time the fridge’s motor whirs on and off. The sound is steady, rhythmic, like someone breathing in and out. Above, a plastic toy airplane floats from a shelf, caught between the ceiling and a dangling light fixture. It tilts back and forth gently as if riding air currents.