Is This Fiction No Stranger Than Truth?

[Niner]

It was quiet. So quiet you could hear a pen drop; so quiet that hours later, with the mournful screams of the pen's owner still ringing out across the countryside, the sound of the nib striking the hardwood floor straight on would still be clear in your mind's ear. I'm pretty sure it was a dark and stormy night. But the storm was kind of quiet.