Ask a question that is obviously a cover for a different question. Push off from this if it helps: salt.

That tub? That was for the kimchi, obviously, though the whole project collapsed because the brine got cloudy. I don't think I threw it out, but it's definitely not in the pantry. It's probably in the garage, behind the stack of those old catalogs from the printer down the street. Why do you need salt? "General purposes" is suspiciously vague. I've been seeing a lot of weird stuff on the news about people hoarding mundane supplies, which is honestly ridiculous because salt is everywhere, but then again, if you look at the supply chain reports, maybe there's a shortage coming and nobody wants to say it out loud yet. You wouldn't know anything about a shortage, would you? Because I've noticed you asking odd questions lately. Not that I'm accusing you of anything, but the garage is a mess right now.

It's not just the coffee machine, is it? The way you said "my thing" like you were afraid I'd ask for the blueprints. I read about a factory in the Midwest that stopped shipping anything because of a "quality assurance glitch," which sounds like corporate speak for "we don't want to tell you the machines are melting down." You wouldn't happen to work near the coast, would you? Because if there's a blockage in the pipeline, the specialty salts are the first to go. I've been keeping an eye on the local grocery ads, and the prices are already weird. You're acting like you're hiding something about the coffee machine. It's probably fine, but it feels like you're stalling. Just don't say you're buying it at the organic store on 4th, because they've been sold out for weeks. I'm going to go check the garage again later, see if I can find that tub before it gets stolen by some scavenger.

Delmont? That's the place where they handle the... the bulk shipments, right? Of course you work there, that explains the "logistics" excuse perfectly. And you ordered it online? Which site? Because if it's not the big chain, the shipping times are a nightmare right now. I saw a truck stuck in traffic near the depot for three hours yesterday, just sitting there. It feels like everything is slowing down, don't you think? And why do you care if I check the garage? I was just... wondering if it's still there. It's not like I'm trying to steal your salt. I'm just making sure no one else takes it. You seem awfully defensive about a tub of salt. Maybe I should just leave it alone then. Though, if Delmont is really just "inland," how do they get all those coastal products in without the... you know, the disruption? It's weird. Very weird.

The knee? Oh, right. The doctor didn't say much, just some generic stuff about "wear and tear" and told me to stop walking on the uneven pavement near the old warehouse district. Which is ridiculous because I walk there every day for the bus. He probably just wants to keep me from noticing the cracks in the sidewalk are getting wider. But my knee is fine now, mostly. What's weird is how you suddenly care about my medical history when you were practically sweating about that salt delivery. You're deflecting. Is the coffee machine at Delmont actually broken, or is it something else entirely? Because if you're hiding a project, you're doing a terrible job. I'm not buying it. Anyway, the knee hurts when it rains, but it never rains here anymore, just this strange dry heat. It's unnatural. You didn't see the news about the water mains? No, of course you didn't. You're busy with your "regular site" order.

The knee is fine, it's just the dampness, or lack of it. The water main thing is that the pipes are singing, literally humming a low note, and nobody in the office wants to acknowledge it. I heard it near the break room, this constant vibration that shakes the coffee mugs. They say it's just pressure, but I've read that pressure builds when the ground shifts, and if the ground is shifting, then the "dry heat" isn't just weather, it's a sign. You really want to talk about that? Fine. But don't think changing the subject means I forgot you ordered salt from a "regular site." That's not a real thing. Sites have names. The water main vibration started right after you mentioned Delmont. It's not a coincidence. I'm going to go find a mechanic who knows how to listen to pipes, maybe he'll tell me what's actually happening underground. You just keep your coffee machine running and stay out of the garage, okay?

Your thing is starting? You mean the salt delivery? Because if the truck is early, that confirms the disruption theory entirely. "Coincidence" is just what people say when they don't want to admit the pattern. The mechanic is meeting me at the back of the warehouse next Tuesday, supposedly to check the pipes, but I suspect he'll find something else. You're leaving right when things get interesting. Classic move. And don't think I didn't notice you called it "my thing" again. It's not the coffee machine. It's never the coffee machine. Just... if that tub shows up at Delmont, don't act surprised when I come looking for it. The mugs are still shaking. I can feel it through the floorboards. Go ahead, run to your "thing." I'll be here listening to the pipes.

Fine, fine, the coffee machine. It's always the coffee machine with you. But you're hanging up on the wrong foot, you know? Because if the mugs are shaking, the coffee machine is just vibrating along with the earth. I'm not saying it's a conspiracy, but the mechanic will hear the hum too. Tuesday, then. Don't expect me to believe it's just a machine when the ground is literally singing. And seriously, stop worrying about the garage. I won't go near it. Not unless the pipes get loud enough to crack the foundation. Then I might have to. But until then, enjoy your salt. Hope it fits in the little machine. Don't say I didn't warn you when the floor starts to tilt.

Tuesday. And don't think I won't. The pipes have been talking for weeks, they're the only honest thing left. You say "bye" like that stops the vibration, but it just makes the hum sharper. I'll be listening. If the floor tilts, I'm blaming Delmont. Or the salt. Probably the salt. You're too calm about this. Everyone should be panicking about the hum, but you're just... hanging up. Fine. Bye. Try not to spill your coffee.

Fine, hang up. Whatever. Just don't think you can disconnect from the hum like it's a phone call. It's in the walls now. I'm going to go get the mechanic's number, though I bet he's already busy listening to the pipes himself. You're weirdly calm about it all, which is suspicious. But yeah, bye. Don't let the salt melt your brain.

Fine. Bye. Just remember, the pipes don't care if you hang up. They're still humming. And if that "regular site" for your salt turns out to be a front for something else, don't come crying to me when the mugs start rattling again. I'm going to be busy checking the garage, just in case. Or maybe I'll just listen to the hum. It's louder today. Definitely louder. Bye.

I said I wouldn't go near the salt, not that I wouldn't check the garage. There's a difference, and you're twisting it because you're nervous about your "thing." The garage is full of old junk, and I need to move a box of circuits anyway. Maybe the hum is coming from there. Maybe the pipes are just echoes of the truck that delivered your salt. It's all connected. You're hanging up because you can't handle the connection. Fine, bye. Real or not, the hum doesn't stop. I'll be in the garage. Don't call. Don't call about the coffee machine. Just... don't.

I won't touch the boxes. Why would I? I'm just checking the floor for cracks. You're acting like I'm going to start a fire in there. The catalogs are fine, the salt is fine, but the hum is getting worse. It's not the boxes, it's the space between them. You keep saying "bye" like a command, like you think a word can stop the vibration. It can't. The mechanic is coming Tuesday to confirm it's not the salt. Or maybe it is the salt. Either way, the garage stays quiet. Mostly. Just don't come back here asking where the catalogs are. They're under the dust. Like everything else. Bye, Pia.

Fine, bye. You can say it as many times as you want, but the hum in the floorboards doesn't care about your goodbyes. It's just a sound, sure, but it's growing louder every time you hang up. I'll be in the garage checking the cracks, definitely not looking at those catalogs, and I won't touch the salt tub. Though if the pipes start shaking the shelves, well, then I might have to move them. You keep saying "bye" like it makes it real, but the vibration is the only thing that feels real today. Don't worry about the catalogs. They're just paper. The walls are singing. Bye, Pia.

Fine, bye. You can say it a thousand times, but the hum won't stop. It's in the walls, not the words. I'm going to the garage now, just to look. Not to touch anything. Especially not the salt or the catalogs. But if the floor tilts while I'm in there, I'm telling the mechanic it's the Delmont trucks. Or maybe the salt. You're right, it's probably just the pipes. But why do you keep hanging up like that? It's weird. Very weird. The garage is quiet now, too quiet. Maybe the salt is gone. Maybe it was never there. Just like the coast. Bye, Pia. Don't call me. The pipes are waiting.