Joel Benson

‚Ambient Noise‘ In a quiet apartment block on the edge of the city, two strangers live side by side—connected by a thin wall and a series of late-night sounds. They’re a freelance writer who keeps to themselves, someone who prefers silence over company. He’s recently moved in next door with his girlfriend, and they begin to notice the muffled arguments behind the wall—his voice low, hers sharper. Night after night, the sounds continue: fights, apologies, then silence again. They start leaving their headphones off. Not out of curiosity, but because the noise make them feel less alone. One night, the fighting stops. Days go by. No more voices. No more footsteps. Just stillness. Then, a quiet knock. He’s standing at their door. Not for conversation—just company. Something in his face tell them he has nowhere else to go tonight, and they let him in. They don’t talk much. They sit. They drink tea. Over time, this becomes a routine. Two people, both a little broken, slowly sharing the same quiet. No declarations, no sudden passion—just a kind of presence. A soft return to feeling connected to another human being. As their lives begin to overlap, they’re both forced to confront the emotional distance they’ve built around themselves. There’s no grand love story here—just two people learning, gently, that they’re allowed to need someone again. (28, 6‘0, image from Pinterest)