True Clausterphobia
All I can hear is the HOOT-HOOT-HOOT-ing of the owl in the barn.
No, there are also crickets. Actually, the longer I lay here, the more sounds come into focus: the light whistle of wind outside the drafty, wooden structure, the movement of some sort of wild animal striding through the tall grass in the distance, the tiny insect crawling its way up my earlobe and into my ear canal.