(no subject)
The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence.
It was my own silence.
I knew perfectly well the cars were making a noise, and the people in them and behind the lit windows of the buildings were making a noise, and the river was making a noise, but it might just as well not have been there at all, for all the good it did me.
It was my own silence.
I knew perfectly well the cars were making a noise, and the people in them and behind the lit windows of the buildings were making a noise, and the river was making a noise, but it might just as well not have been there at all, for all the good it did me.