The storm has passed.
The strange grating thunder that sounded like a plastic bin being dragged down a driveway has been silenced, leaving only an endless unbroken stillness.
After a time, I plug my iPod into the stereo, chasing away the ghosts of silence. As if on cue, a plane passes overhead and in the distance a car revs, as if they were simply waiting for my permission to give voice to their passing. One of my cats trills as he passes through the room, on his way to seek water or maybe a more comfortable place to rest.
It’s midnight–the Witching hour–and I am alone; a child lost in the dark.
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