the engine room of my office is deafening at night.it roars with all the news that the machines are rolling with night after night throughout the night.i stifle a yawn and escape to my soundproof conservatory of paper and print.the machine bellows now with almost the agony and the excitement of all the stories it is going to throw at an unsuspecting public tomorrow.all the scandal and the denials.but on my floor it is just a drone as all the sounds of the night are.drones.a buzz that comes like a wave to the shore and recedes pulling away sand from under the feet.