To play the music

In quiet moments I heard music, but there was never enough quiet to hear it properly. What brief phrases I made out seemed to dissolve when the noise returned and pushed them out. Notes scattered into engine pings and cat cries and distant drilling. Finally I sealed myself in the house, cotton wool in my ears, manuscript paper on my lap. I wrote down that strange music, then collapsed into a sleep that left me dry-mouthed and weak-limbed. The next day I played it for Andrea. 'That's the theme from the Muppet Show,' she said.