redon

 

It was quiet on the day the door closed.

The morning rose grey and still. There was no sound, as if the wind lost its voice. The sky was gone, replaced by clouds that obliterated shapes and stifled all sound.There was no need to get up. Suddenly there was no need to struggle, no need to live.

Yet life was all there was.

Even the silence breathed.

But you had to be dead to hear it.

Or alive enough.

 

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