Smoke Alarm
SANITY ON BACKORDER
From Hive Peak Boulevard
By Danu Marche
Humor Columnist
Published: August 11, 2025
Synapse & Spectacle
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This week, my smoke alarm started auditioning for horror films.
It began innocently enough — a single, high-pitched chirp somewhere in the house. At first, I thought it was outside. Birds, maybe. Then it happened again, twenty minutes later. Same pitch. Same passive-aggressive tone. You know the one: “I’m not mad, just disappointed you haven’t figured out where I am yet.”
This is the home version of being ghosted, except the ghost is an electronic device you bought, mounted, and supposedly maintain. The beep has no schedule — it arrives like an uninvited dinner guest who doesn’t bring wine and stays just long enough to interrupt every single thought you have.
By Day 2, the mystery beep had become a full-time mental roommate. I roamed from room to room like some budget-level ghost hunter, holding my breath and waiting for it to speak again. Nothing. I’d leave the room, and beep. It was personal now.
I dismantled the obvious suspects: smoke alarms, carbon monoxide detectors, kitchen timer, even my sad old pedometer from 2009. Nothing. The beeping continued, its origin as elusive as an honest “read receipt.”
By Day 3, I had become the sort of person who speaks directly to inanimate objects. “We can work this out,” I told the empty hallway. “Just tell me what you want.” No response. Just beep.
Then came the pivot — the suspicion it wasn’t a safety device at all, but something more sinister: a rogue kitchen appliance or a low-battery remote, quietly judging my life choices. I checked the fridge. I checked the toaster. I checked the drawer where old electronics go to die. All innocent. My entire home was gaslighting me.
And of course, today’s squirrel sighting didn’t help. There it was: hanging upside-down from the gutter like a trapeze artist, dangling what I swear was a key fob. It clicked the buttons twice then dropped it onto the lawn like a mic at the end of a performance. I’m not saying the squirrel is behind this, but I am saying it made direct eye contact before leaving.
At this point, I’ve stopped searching and started negotiating. If the beep wants rent, fine. If it’s some elaborate training exercise from the universe to teach patience, message received. But if it’s planning to escalate into a double beep, I will move.
So until then, I’m living with it. One beep at a time. And no, my car does not have an alarm. And yes, I posted neighborhood flyers for the key fob. Walking up and down the street pressing the buttons like a sad mental patient panned no results.
“If your house has an untraceable noise, please send me its alibi.”
©2025 Danu Marche
