
At night, sitting in the atrium of the Life Science complex every sound is amplified, reverberating off the lofty ceiling and long corridors. As opposed to the noise that usually results from echoed rooms, the lack of people sitting in the atrium creates a hushed atmosphere. The smallest of movements--the turning of a page, creak of a chair, the scuff of a foot--are heard from across the room. Everyone tries to make their movements make as little noise as possible to not disrupt the pressing silence. Conversations that are more than a whisper are heard clearly, passerby interrupting the hushed silence of the building. Drumming fingers on a chair sound far too loud. The hydraulics in the doors create an airy sound as they work so that the doors neatly shut in a "snap." The scuff of feet is the most dominant sound in the atrium, few people able to pass through without notice. In the hushed silence, the hum of the refrigerators in the cafe and the lights hanging from the ceiling create a white noise that can be heard only when a person focuses on the sound. A messenger bag rubs against a nylon coat as a person cuts through the building. Conversations in Indian fade in and out, some loud and laughing, others hushed and hurried. The strange silence that hangs in the air between the noisy interruptions seems almost loud in its own way.