My home is unusually quiet, without even the white noise

of another soul upstairs.

The tireless connections that we digitally maintain, precious

in a way real contact no longer is, are shut off.

Suddenly my world is very small.

Me. My thoughts. My breath.

I am still.

This silence is water to my parched mind, and I dive

eagerly in to the depths.

Though I know it will shatter—as the wheel must continue to spin—for the moment

I am infinite within myself.

Peace, like a dog with his head out the window, envelops me.

All is right. All is calm. All is, simply, good.

The End

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