Evil demanded little of me – it merely asked me to stay silent, to do nothing. And I complied.
Together we closed the door to the truth, locking it out in the cold where it would surely be forgotten and eventually die a quiet death. It was not easy to do; later I heard it knocking, demanding to be let in. Sometimes it was a quiet tap, a hesitant rap of the knuckles, but other times it banged and kicked, threatening to splinter the wood, rip the door from its hinges.
The world falls silent – there are no barking dogs, no screeching children, even the wind stops her whistling. Our music pauses too as if catching its breath. It’s this silence in between the noise that stops my heart.
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