The Silence by John T. Mathis

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The Silence by John T. Mathis

Silence emanates down the marble hallway that used to echo merrily of children’s mirth and jubilee. This silence cannot die, it grows louder than a blood curdled scream, longer than roaring thunder rolled out like a rug across a stormy sky. The silence falls softly and accumulates upon the ivory piano, the red sofa, and the golden bench. It falls like enormous, fluffy snowflakes, but never melts away. The birds are mimes; the silence has stolen their song. This silence cannot be stopped. It is thicker than fog, colder than ice, hotter than the flame. The ceasing of a lonely life turned the radio of sound down—forever.