Silence

A man is never without silence. Modern sensory depriving chambers lifting the weights of gravity and erasing the clamors of life cannot mute the thoughts racing through a man's head. In bed traffic whooshes by in the city. Crickets chirp in the country. Wind howls against the window. Refrigerators hum patiently with its power supply. Silence simply does not exist.

And what if you think you found silence. What is that silence saying?

I turned again in bed, disgusted by the voice in my head. Go to sleep it said over and over. I began to focus on my breathing. The simple rise and collapse of the lungs was natural and peaceful, like watching trees sway in the breeze. That should do it, I thought. Soon I was distracted. Breathing was a task now, a game. Could I breathe in sync with my sacked partner? I found it extremely difficult. There were too many inconsistencies. I was always slowing down or catching up. Frustrated, I turned, and turned again. I looked at her sleeping face. I might as well have been looking at myself. The image was so familiar. I didn't know everything about her, but I felt so akin to this woman. 

As I watched her sleeping face, it occurred to me that she could just as easily be watching me, and when she should wake it would just seem a funny dream.

Later with my back turned mind elsewhere, she made a sound: one of question, so I listened, and she made another sound: one of affirmation. I wondered what question did her dream pose? What answer could she give herself? The thought that only I would remember this exchange made me a bit lonely.

Later I wondered if she was listening to me. Did her sleeping mind intercept the thoughts that raced from mine? I did a voodoo test. Think bad thoughts and let her body react. To my horror, she did! Bad thought #1, her leg would twitch. Bad thought #2, a toe would wriggle. Bad thought #3, a murmur and a moan.

I turned away disgusted. My God, I'm horrible. Go to sleep. Shut Up! Hush.