Silence is, for me, the scariest noise in the universe.
You know why?
Because there is no way to interpret it.
What does it tell you about the person you are waiting to hear from?
Away? In trouble? Depressed? Dead? Puterless?
Or, most sinister of all (and most likely explanation): no longer wanting to be in touch with you.
Personally, I would rather have an eldritch scream or a bomb through my letter box than this deafening silence.
Damn.
At least I have one huge consolation: I had long chats with both my children in the last twenty-four hours. I get the impression that they still love me. Bless them.
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