A little one. Just a couple of minutes ago. There was a low rumbling, sort of like a subway train going underneath the house, but... rhythmic. Pulsing, with a frequency of about half a second. The desk lamp by the computer -- it's one of those with the jointed arm and the cone around the bulb -- began to sway back and forth. I felt my chair going up and down, like it was going on rollers down a bumpy road, and then the whole house began to sway. We ran to the kids' room. I picked up Alan, Claudia grabbed David, and we stood in the doorway at the top of the stairs. That's what they tell you: stand in a doorway, if you don't have time to get outside. And then it stopped. Dogs were barking up and down the street, and a minute later a confused flock of birds went cawing and creaking overhead in the darkness. But then everything got quiet again. It's very quiet now. We don't hear any sirens or anything. Like I said: a little one. Much of Bucharest was flattened by an earthquake in 1977; the whole middle and lower Balkan region is tectonically unstable. Earthquakes are a fact of life here, and there's nothing to be done about it. We're going to go back to bed now. Eventually we'll sleep.