In the old houses, stairs creak. Wood swells and shrinks over...

In the old houses, stairs creak. Wood swells and shrinks over years, changes shape, and the pieces whine and wail under weight as a person presses up or lands down. I like the way time gives voice to houses. The exception was during summers when I was young and trying to sneak out of the house at night. I learned to put my weight on the edges of the steps, where tread met wall, a wide-legged stance, bracing myself on banisters, to make a quieter passage. I was at a new house recently, less than a year old, and built by the top-tierest builders. The steps, above, float. And in stepping on them, up or down, not only are they silent, it almost feels as they rise just so to meet your foot, pressing up against you as you press down. Mute now, pre-verbal, how long will it take them to learn to talk?