Slow Death from Silence


Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt: Silence
Via Daily Post: Silence


It draped her shoulders like a cloak. She wielded it like a blade to sever an appendage. It bent to her will and struck with precision. She had mastered the art of silence. Though he longingly stared at her, willing her lips to part, he knew his attempt was in vain.

The invisible forcefield, impenetrable. His words were wasted, fizzling to dissolve as no response was offered. No, it wasn’t a forcefield; it was a black hole that claimed his confessions. A darkness that he could not understand; a mystery he wished to unravel. 

His frustration urged him to break the silence, to break her. Why couldn’t she just answer him? He was trying to help her. He was doing his best to support her. He wanted to save her. 

Anger flared, he slammed his fist into the table. He fought the urge to spew spiteful words. Her silence met him without a start, her eyes fixed on the tiled floor as though he wasn’t present.

It wasn’t his frustration or anger that were the most uncomfortable for him. It was the assumptions he crafted in his mind. The dark conclusions that stabbed at his resolve. The forced self examination of his countless flaws. No matter how he wrestled with his inner turmoil, he could not achieve victory. Without a response, what else could he do?

His hard stare softened, and he felt the longing for an end return. He wanted to be hit. To be screamed at. He wanted to be acknowledged. He wanted anything but this unbearable pain. If only she would let him go. If only he could abandon his heart. 

He stood from the table and walked away. Once again, he had failed. He would have to take a step back, but he could not relent until he got through to her. He embraced the agony without a word, and considered how he might adopt her weapon of choice. The slow death from silence continued to eat away at him as he faded into the background. 


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