The silence of snow

There is something to be born from the debris of the city. Something that can save us all. If the sky has nothing new to offer then let salvation come from underneath.

After the nightmares he trained himself to stay awake. All the time. He kept the window open and learned how to live with the cold winter days. His skin was getting rough and grey. His lips were now white and his hair was growing wild. He kept as quiet as possible, he did not want to draw unwanted attention. He spent most of the day lying on the carpet floor, looking at the ceiling, holding a glass of water over his chest. This kept him from falling asleep. Day and night were becoming the same, the only way he could tell the difference was by listening carefully. At night, the whispers would start creeping into the empty holes in the walls, any breach of solidness was now the home of these empty voices. The voices of coldness.

As I prepare myself to face this terror I understand how these empty walls have served me as a home serves a family. I will leave no trace, no memories, but these walls will keep the secrets in the silence I shared with them. They will keep one of us safe, if one is lucky enough to find it. I will not be a fool and wish for this world to remember me. Time is harsh on us and it shall be harsh as long as humans live. I am a human, still, but today that is my weakness. I will pretend that life has left me, no time and no history will be able to spell my name. I will have no name in the hope that one day, sinners will break the silence.

As he walked into the street the sound of his steps was buried in the thick snow.