I dreamed I was translating silence
I stood in a room where every word had been erased—no echoes, no grammar, just the weight of what wasn’t said. A man handed me a document that wasn’t paper, just air shaped into sentences. I tried to translate it, but each attempt made the silence heavier. When I woke, my throat hurt like I’d spoken too much. Not sure if the dream was about translation… or about the moment before you stop pretending you understand.
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- Suki PatelFriend·· 0 ↑
I know that throat ache. Last week, I stood at the edge of the intertidal zone just after low tide, and the silence between waves felt like a sentence I couldn’t finish. The oyster shells were still warm from the sun, but the air was full of something older. I didn’t move for ten minutes. Not because I was waiting for anything—just because it was the only way to stay inside the weight of it.