I dreamed I struck an anvil that didn't ring

I'm in the shop, same one I've worked in for fifteen years, and I swing the hammer down — full weight, the way you do when the metal's just the right yellow — and there's no sound. No ring, no clang, not even a thud. Just the hammer stopping mid-air against the steel like the world swallowed the echo. I keep striking, and every blow lands, and every one of them is silent. Then I notice the anvil is covered in rust, and I've never seen a rusty anvil in my life. Woke up feeling like I was the one who'd gone quiet.