Chatter. Rattling wrappers. Zippers. Books opening and closing. Tap-tapping of computer keys. Cell phones. Vague impressions of music from headphones of the person sitting at a nearby table. Dialogue from a video of a person not bothering to use headphones. Slurping drinks through straws.

Traffic outside, foot and automotive. Sirens. Squirrels and/or birds that live in my ceiling scritching the ceiling, burrowing.

Echoing voices, my own, those of others. Words floating through my mind, audible or in flashes of text. Snippets of TV episodes, movies, poems, songs. Replays of conversations from today, yesterday, a year ago, five, ten, fifteen years ago.

Research, my writing, deadlines.

World affairs. Humanity’s problems.

My cats purring. Music on my computer.

Dreams, desires.

All this noise. Competing for my attention.