It was still and dark inside his house.

The quiet was so complete that it had actually become audible, a giant thrum in his ears.

The nothing was so pervasive that it had become something.

It was the loudest, most insistent silence he’d ever heard.

He inhaled thickly, feeling the air rushing into his lungs, and wondered how long it had been since he’d taken his last breath.

His fingers trailed along the torn edge of parchment. It had been ripped away from something.

Involuntarily.

His eyes fought against the darkness, tirelessly tracing the lines again

and again and

again.