The Gravity of Silence
I play the sound of the train tracks at 5:47 AM. The hollow rhythm of waiting. I play the sound of my mother’s silence after a perfect run. I play the whisper of my classmates, the soft rustle of Tanaka’s paperback pages, the imagined warmth of a hand I have never held. ichika matsumoto pov
My name is Ichika Matsumoto, and I am a ghost in my own body. The Gravity of Silence I play the sound
“The violin is my partner,” I told him. It sounded poetic. It sounded romantic. But what I meant was: I am too afraid of silence to let anyone else in. I play the whisper of my classmates, the
The bow dances. It skids. It sings. My left hand flies up the fingerboard, not to impress, but to escape. The B-string whines. The E-string screams. I play a wrong note. A glorious, jagged wrong note that is entirely mine. It hangs in the air like a confession.