Phantom Frequencies
It's 2:45 AM. The world outside is hushed, wrapped in the heavy stillness of the night. The only sound accompanying my solitude is the rhythmic tock-tock of the clock on the wall, its pendulum slicing through the silence like a hypnotic metronome.
But then—there it is again.
A faint scratching sound.
It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, like the distant rustling of dry leaves in a breeze that isn't there. I pause, listening intently. The room is empty save for me and the glow of my monitor. My MacBook sits quietly, its fans undisturbed by the light workload of me typing away in my code editor, producing no sound at all. But this sound is different. This is something else.
I move my mouse. Silence. I type a few words. Nothing. I scroll.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
I freeze. My speakers are muted, and my headphones lie untouched on the desk. The house is quiet, my family asleep in the next room. Yet each time I scroll—a motion dictated by the touch-sensitive surface of my Magic Mouse, which has no physical wheel to produce any sound—the noise returns, a ghostly whisper at the edge of my hearing.
I rub my temple. Have I been working too late? Perhaps my mind is fabricating sounds out of exhaustion. I leaned closer to the direction of where the sound is coming from. The sound isn't coming from my desk, my chair, or the floorboards beneath me.
It's coming from the air itself.
The thought unsettles me. I lean back, fingers hovering over the mouse. Something about this noise—it has a texture, a grain, as if something unseen is shifting in response to my actions. Is it in my head? Is it something else?
The days pass, and the scratching remains. I try everything—different apps, different positions, even using a different device. But the phenomenon persists. It’s always there, lurking, responding only when I scroll.
Then, a thought strikes me.
Just a few days ago, I had set up a new 34" curved monitor on my work desk. A high-refresh-rate 120Hz display—clear and fluid in motion.
Could it be?
With a deep breath, I switch off the monitor.
Scroll.
Silence.
I exhale, half in relief, half in amusement. The scratching noise, the eerie anomaly haunting my late-night work sessions, was nothing more than a strange byproduct of the high refresh rate. An odd quirk of technology playing tricks on my ears.
I chuckle to myself and glance at the clock. 3:15 AM. Time to get some sleep.
And yet, as I switched everything off and turn away, I can’t help but wonder—
If the scratching was the monitor…
Then what was that other sound just now?
