Tuesday, April 17, 2018 9:33 PM

The sirens sound as I'm walking home from the House of a Hundred Grandmothers. It's the second of two Remembrance Days, this one for the fallen soldiers of Israel and victims of terrorism. No one else is out on the block-long street. As the sirens start, a single car rolls past me, turns into a hidden driveway, and disappears. Each of the three sirens I hear has a slightly different pitch. As at the Dream House, when I move my head I hear varying mixes of the pitches, plus difference tones and beat frequencies. I stand still, hands behind my back, until the sirens fade. Then I continue walking, through a small park (itself named for a fallen soldier), up some steps, then down my street, remembering to turn the light on as I arrive.