The Crushing Silence Lean back into the recliner, footrest extended. CNN voices fill the sparsely furnished room. Close my eyes, breathe deeply, feel sleep's gentle urging sweep me into its midst. Hand upon remote control. I pause, bring it before my eyes. Slow rotations, the glinting of light from buttons long oiled by fingertips. Football games, news reports, X-files, the Simpsons, Star Trek, Frugal Gourmet, Nature... blurred flashes of color and auditory cacophany -- how many times I had pressed those buttons, with her sitting a few feet away... Now, alone in this room, in a home for two. I spy the other, black fur and sinewed legs. Sebastian stalks a fly upon the window, buzz of wings beating the invisible shell of its prison. Soft thuds of furred paws upon the glass, as I yawn, eyes blurring. Warm tears, one gathering in a corner of my eye. Breaks free, trickles down my cheek, glistening wake as droplet thins. Pressing a button upon the remote, the TV goes silent, screen crackling with electrostatic protest. Crackle fades. The fly alights upon window glass, and I attain... Silence... Complete. Silence. Close my eyes, feel heart beating in my chest. Blood rushes through ears. Echoing memory of my wedding day, as I fight to purify my thoughts, to purge them of my wife, now far away, in the presence of her new love. Float upon the edge of sleep, heart thudding in my chest, adrenaline flowing. Air grows cold, my skin numb, limbs frozen beneath the weight of my loneliness. It settles down upon me from above -- in this moment I have so long anticipated. But the peace becomes heavy, rocks piled upon my chest by demons hovering overhead. Weight becomes pain. Dagger spreads my flesh, slips between two ribs, widens the gap between them, further down until it breathes ice fire upon my beating heart. Submerged far below the wave-painted light of day, as pressure gathers, water cools, skin becomes clammy to my touch. Demonspeak pulls me back to wakefulness, allows me to feel every sensation of the descent as I strive to flee through sleep. We are side by side in bed, her gaze soft in the glow of a honey moon pasted against stars. Warm skin upon warm skin, her wet eyes shining in the night. Promises, of eternal love, of forever passion, of neverending devotion and togetherness. "I am so completely in love with you," I hear softly in the darkening room. She begins to sing, tears welling within my eyes, at the joy I hope to feel until the day I breathe my last. Descending further, light daggers fading into the black-green deep, day become night, water freezes upon my skin, pressure grips my ribs like the constrictor about its hapless victim's chest and throat. Gasp, flail, to no avail, and then feel the flood of tears, soaking my face, my hair, the pillow on which I recline. I cannot stand the Silence. The Crushing Silence. Scott Speck 1998