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The Fault of Silence
- Syracuse University Press
- Chapter
- Additional Information
62 The Fault of Silence In the world of night the fault of silence falls on no one and suffering is the span of emptiness between each finger on a hand. There’s no web no net to catch each moment falling and not received by someone, a self saying: Here I am. Hence the sense of facelessness we have. Trains have windows, a lookout— over backyards, striped swing sets and meadows. The ticket taker walks softly up the aisle. When imagining a plant, the real plant curls its leaves and we go inside a large room filled with different stations. One is for shells scattered. Bears have been there. One is for children—how they need a place to be. One is for brooms and neatness. One is a sitting place with many exits. One is for terror. ...