I was looking through the many Weekly Writing Challenges, and for some reason, this one hit me. I started getting ideas of the different forms of silence: loving and peaceful, angry and tense, and, finally, reflective and reminiscent. How have you experienced silence?
She was Silence
She remembers the early days. When they were content to sit and say nothing to each other. She would wrap them in her warmth; they would feel so safe, so secure under her blanket. Hours would pass, but they would seem as minutes. She could stay there all day, contently watching as they basked in her solitude. She needed to say nothing, for that is what she was. She was Silence.
Silence is different now. She is tougher, yet easily shattered with a sharp word that cuts her stillness like a knife. Silence is awkward. She is a barrier between what was and what could have been: a wall separating the two halves that were once one.
Silence floats alone through the empty rooms. She is a reminder of times not yet fully forgotten. She is still, yet able to stir up emotions long forgotten during moments of reflection. Remembering what was—and feeling pained at the memories—she cannot make a sound. Silence, in any form, is still Silence.