He awoke in silence. Stillness surrounded him. He had dreamed of her again. His lost love, the source of his despair and the loss of any happiness he once had. It was a dream he had often, and it left him shivering in a cold sweat every time. In his dream, she was gone, lost in a bathtub of despair. She was disenchanted by the hollow life of a Hollywood starlet before she died, finding solace only at the bottom of a syringe. Every day life became more and more meaningless to her. Those soulless eyes, eyes lost in the abyss of time, no longer capable of focusing on anything but the inexorable fading of her self worth. He looked at her night after night as he found her again in his dreams, found her with a hypodermic needle in her arm, naked and wrinkled in lukewarm water. She was pale and her lips were hypothermic blue. Her pupils were constricted, focused on nothing even as he hovered in front of her face. He lifted her gently from the tub. Water slid off of her limp body and splashed on the tile as he pulled her out and laid her on the ground. As he cradled her against his chest, a sudden breath excaped her. Her lips remained blue and her pupils would not focus on him, but she whispered to him so lightly that his dream self is never sure if he actually hears her speak or if it’s a trick of the strange acoustics of water in a bathroom. Or maybe he is just afraid of what she says.
$title =
Silence
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