http://www.proza.ru/2015/08/30/1845 - текст оригинала.
Lately, I often hear my house creak, crack, groan, rustle, sway and get back in place with a boom; the trees seem to be acting along: moving from side to side, making distressing sounds. As though every single cat in the group that came by the yard is trying hard to make its last cry the loudest. And here I am in bed at night with my eyes closed, listening to all of this. Once I get up, the house is still, nobody outside, not even wind, and yet I can hear something coming down.
It is I myself.