Hearing things

Two nights ago, I woke up in the middle of the night thinking that I heard Pete crying in the distance, muffled by a door. I slowly realized that I was instead hearing the sound of the bedsheets rustling as Carolyn shifted in her sleep. The odd part of the experience was that waking up didn't change my perception. Even when I knew what I was hearing, I could still recognize a distant baby's cry in the sound. Such is the rewiring of my poor hypersenitive brain.