Library

The silence is oppressive. It is heavy. It envelops you like cold molten lead, stifling your reflexes, dimming your movements. As if by divine providence, its existence becomes paramount, and each gesture is executed with utmost care, so as not to break its holy being. As you loose yourself in this transcendent state, it becomes second nature. Your thoughts become more organized, your fingers type gently on the keyboard. As if in meditation, your whole self seems to fall into a new state of being, the world around you slipping away. And only once this unconscious reverence of silence has reached its peak, do you start to forget all about where it came from.
Until you swear out loud.