My iguana cage is silent.Just two weeks ago it was alive with sounds.I wish we’d just throw it out.The other night I heard a helicopter fly over my head.I hear a lot of helicopters at night when I’m trying to sleep     but this one was different.I was at UCLA and it was late at night and it flew     over my head and I ran away from it but then it landed     on the top of the UCLA emergency room parking lot     and I was glad the awful noise just stopped.The answering machine picks up and says I would like     to know if you can join Kaleidoscope on Sunday night.I don’t recognize the voice but I know it has something     to do with school.I hear my stomach gurgling.It sounds like a washing machine.The siren of a police car wakes my cat up.The sound of a blue jay squawking is stopped by     a loud shriek.I wonder if my cat got the bird.A dog is howling like a werewolf next door.The thought of that makes me shiver.I hit my pen against the table like a drumstick.I’m drumming to “Love Me Do.”It’s suddenly so quiet.The French people to the left of us are not home.The Japanese people to the right are asleep.I don’t like it.The only sound I hear is the tap tap tapping of my foot     on the floor and the rap rap rapping of my pen     on the table . . .Paul McCartney’s voice sings in my head.I can’t believe he can sing so deep and so high at the     same time.