Silence lingered. His eyes dropped downward and not even a rustle of the leaves beneath his feet gave credence to any reality. He was real, he knew, for he could see and move and breathe, yet even his breath offered no sound. His thoughts were loud whispers in his head, his voice mute as he mouthed the mimicked words.
Others were there, but a ways off, interacting with each other. They too, even without vibration. It didn’t seem to bother them. They paid him no mind at all. He asked himself, “Why am I being ignored”? For a moment he thought perhaps it was a dream, but no, in dreams you are watching yourself. You know you are the actor and the audience.
Suddenly…when far away an interrupted cry…
A child’s voice, “the volume on the tv doesn’t work! I can’t hear anything!
Dversepoetspub.com asks we write a 144 word flashfiction, (Prosery), and include a line from Robert Frost’s poem ‘acquaintance with the night”.
My word count is exactly 144 words, excluding the title.