"...voices"

A summer storm is passing. Wind thunder. I lay here listening. Reminds me of hospital stays. 'Couldn't move nor speak. So listened. The chirps, and beeps of what I was plugged into. The drift of voices. Conversations remarks distant, and near. The hums, and trills of the building. It was a symphony of life, and machinery. The songs of life, and movement. I slept.