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The Voice of Silence
by
Courtney Shaubel
Black ebonite waves crash over hardened rocks – stark white spray darting
into shadowed crevices. Stringy moss of hunter green and olive blanket the crags
like patchwork quilts, and gentles them to the touch of searching feet – quiet bronzed things that explore the land
in silence. In the dusk of sunfall, soft chirpings and scampering paws dominate the ribbon of ivory
beach. It would all be hushed, were it not for the rolling waves and the comfortable whispers of the waltzing ferns.
Suddenly the lolling waves halt and whish over the wetted sand in silence, leaving trails of exhausted foam. A great gust of wind rushes
through the sombrous forest... rendering it full of life with the cracking of ancient
branches and scattering animals. A clouded, mauve sky in vivid reflection of a porcelain tea cup dons a cloak of
soft grey, and buries its silver moon in a splash of unsettled haze.... All is quiet...
Soft voices are heard among the silenced grasses.... Two shadows; silhouettes in black and blue lay nestled side by side. Enravelled and
enraptured, they gaze in wonder through the obscurity of the fast falling evening, caught only by the beauty of their twin gazes.
"The hush before the storm..." one murmurs – her voice caught by the heightening breeze, and taken off to dash among the trees.
"A hush, it ought to be, to allow my words to be heard," the second of the
two whispers – his voice husky, and careful to please.
A single cricket chirrups from his home beneath the wildflowers. A sole musician among the quieted orchestra. He sings with
valour and bravery, awaiting the storm sure to ensue, and to comfort the lovers who lay
embraced among the flora.
"My love... forgive me. My words do not recite my emotions well. Listen to this cricket, and regard the woven sky, only then will you
understand what I scarcely manage to say..."
With opened ears she listens well, and watches the heavens with wondrous eyes. And only then is her soul so touched, to push her to cry...
Salty tears roll down her cheeks, as she turns her gaze to her lover. "I cry not because I am sad, my love, nor because of this impending
storm. I do so only because what you have said is true... and what you have said
was not said at all.... It was told to me by a means too deep to ever be described with words...."
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