My heartbeat, the wind in the trees, the sounds of the squirrels and birds, the sigh of traffic on Interstate 5, the ringing in my ears, the kettle on to boil, the flushing of the toilet, voices in the street — these, along with every whisper within and beyond, are the music of my life. They’re my silence, too. How easily, effortlessly, they will end.
.
[ 1634 ]
Categories: A Few More Scratches
William Michaelian 