That’s all I hear. Not even a whisper fills the air.
There had always been so much noise in the world. Car wheels rolling across gravel, grass crunching under boots, water rippling with the wind, electricity humming as it ran through wires, voices talking, whispering, crying, laughing…
Only now do I realize just how much I took for granted. In the quiet that now fills the world, I miss the sounds of life.
A tap on my shoulder breaks me out of my thoughts. I look up at Jennifer, who somehow got in front of me without my noticing. No, not somehow. I know how. I didn’t hear her. I never hear anyone.
The young blonde gazes at me sadly. She tries to hide it, but I can still see the pity in her hazel eyes. I despise that look and she knows it, but I can’t bring myself to be angry. I can’t bring myself to feel anything, not anymore.
The child holds up her hands and signs a few words. I nod and stand. It’s dinner. Or, in my case, it’s time to sit at a not empty table that might as well be empty with people who are not lifeless but might as well be.
I start to follow Jennifer inside, but stop halfway and turn back around. I can see the trees rustling, the wind brushing past them tenderly. I can see birds cutting through the skies, swirling past each other in lively masses. I can see the water rippling, fish leaping free for a moment before disappearing back into the murky depths.
I strain my ears, desperately trying to hear something. Anything.
All that reaches my ears is silence. Not even a whisper. Not even a hum.
I sigh in defeat. The last bit of hope clinging to my soul finally lets go, releasing me from its painful grip.
I turn back to the house and trudge inside. Jennifer stares at me from where she’s holding the door. She tries to sign something to me, but I don’t even look up. There’s no point.
There’s no life without noise.
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