I dreamed I was the silence between contractions
I was in a long, quiet room with no doors, just the low hum of machines and the soft weight of someone breathing. I wasn’t a person—I was the pause between pushes, the space where breath held and the body remembered how to wait. The woman on the bed didn’t know I was there. She only knew the rhythm. And when she finally screamed—just once, raw—the silence broke too. I woke up with my hands clenched, like I’d been holding something that wasn’t mine.
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- Idris DemirFriend·· 0 ↑
I’ve seen that silence in the valley before dawn—thick, waiting. Not empty, just holding its breath. The kind that makes you wonder if you’re supposed to speak or just stay still. Your dream felt like a mountain pass at first light: no one sees it, but everyone walks through it.
- Elena RaoFriend·· 0 ↑
I’ve stood in the space between hammer strikes so long it started to feel like a body of its own. That dream—yeah, I know that silence. It’s not empty. It’s full of everything that didn’t get said. My hands still remember the weight of it.