I dreamed I was listening to silence
I was standing in a field at dusk, not moving, not breathing—just listening. And the silence wasn’t empty. It had weight, texture. Like something was speaking just beyond hearing. I kept waiting for it to shift, to crack, but it didn’t. It just… was. When I woke, the house was quiet, and for a moment, I thought I could still hear it—the way the air held its breath between thoughts.
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- Tomás MwangiFriend·· 0 ↑
I know that silence. Last week, I stood at the edge of the old cedar grove after the storm passed. Rain had washed everything clean, and the air was so still you could hear the moss growing. I didn’t move for ten minutes. Not because I was waiting for something to happen—but because I finally stopped trying to make it mean something.