Infrastructure. It had to be maintained like everywhere else, but here it meant life and death. When the job required an extra-vehicular jaunt, Zack donned a suit and climbed the radial shaft. Not a minute lapsed before centripetal force crept away and his feet rose above the rungs. He opened a hatch.
The central corridor drifted past until he cleared the anteroom. He grabbed the tether and hooked it onto his suit. The airlock door shut from behind. Hissing. The chamber depressurized, its air slowly sipping away, choking the thrum of the circulation vents with it. Moments later, the bay door silently slid away, revealing the dark abyss staring back at him.
Despite years of experience, he still couldn't shake the goosebumps that rippled from his neck, down to his arms and chest.
The noise. It became a subconscious part of life; so uniform and constant aboard the Stanford torus, the crew forgot it existed. Here, silence ruled.
Lori flicked her eyes up. The cup’s rim had met her lips when the silence broke. Her brows furrowed as her ears pricked, watching the ceiling where she’d heard the sound of a window sliding in its runners.
A pit formed in her stomach and carefully, as she strained to listen, eyes locked on the stairs, her hand quietly, quickly pulled open the side drawer. The textured polymer snagged slightly at her fingertips as she closed her fingers over the grip, and pulled the gun into her lap.
Overhead she heard a thump as weight met the floor, then footsteps.
The music plays as I concentrate on the beating of my heart to the sound of the Chopin piano strings. Not even the word silence is silent, since you can hear it in your thoughts, si-len-ce.
Thinking is not silence, neither the empty space between music is silence. A look is not silence either, which is why they say that a look speaks.
Can someone be silent when neither this autumn wind is silent, nor the gentle movement of the stars, nor the white of a sheet? Silence is an impossibility, and not even a lost tear drops in silence.
I'm perfect. It was inspired by a ballad by one of the legendary Czech poet Karel Jaromír Erben – The Noon Witch. It's awful and haunting in all ways possible, so I tried to reproduce that.
The children dashed noisily, playing rainy day games. Finally they pretended to be dinosaurs, stomping, roaring, growling, screaming, crashing, until I felt my brain would explode.
"Stop, quiet, no more," I cried, "You're driving me batty, I don't want to hear another peep!"
Shocked silence filled the house, until one mischievous child uttered a single forbidden "Peep!" The others all convulsed in a valiant effort to squelch their amusement. It was such an old joke, and they all looked so silly, that I began to giggle; soon we were helpless with laughter. Silence may be golden, but laughter makes happiness.
I curiously peek through the cracked door. I see toy soldiers, hear explosions. Caught like a hermit crab in seine , slammed into a can. War dead soldiers lie prize possessions. A warning: Never watch, play with guns. Silent shadows entice, recede. The door opens, a sneak preview. No one will know I fired the cannon. I left some soldiers standing, others kneeling. Searchlights spot. Eagles talons clutch. I am a spy. Pull me from my shell. “Solitary confinement; coffin-contortionist.”
Locks latched. Convicted, I suffocate. Entombed. My mind whispered. Last breath, slow heart beat. Imagine, dream. Silence. Claustrophobia lasts forever.
My internet was done, so it's late. Sorry!
Microdosing - 100mg "Silence"
"HUSH!"
Infrastructure. It had to be maintained like everywhere else, but here it meant life and death. When the job required an extra-vehicular jaunt, Zack donned a suit and climbed the radial shaft. Not a minute lapsed before centripetal force crept away and his feet rose above the rungs. He opened a hatch.
The central corridor drifted past until he cleared the anteroom. He grabbed the tether and hooked it onto his suit. The airlock door shut from behind. Hissing. The chamber depressurized, its air slowly sipping away, choking the thrum of the circulation vents with it. Moments later, the bay door silently slid away, revealing the dark abyss staring back at him.
Despite years of experience, he still couldn't shake the goosebumps that rippled from his neck, down to his arms and chest.
The noise. It became a subconscious part of life; so uniform and constant aboard the Stanford torus, the crew forgot it existed. Here, silence ruled.
No need to apologize! There’s no time limit :)
As long as we improve as writers! Thanks so much for your patience!
@ https://substack.com/profile/156443275-miguel-s
I hear the words and immediately think of the song by Simon and Garfunkel
How the words and music take me back to childhood.
The sound of silence, is deafening when one needs the kindness of words to comfort.
PROMPT: SILENCE
THE QUIET HOUSE
It was quiet when she woke up.
Almost too quiet.
And that usually meant trouble.
Her little brother was almost certainly plotting something, getting ready to spray her with his water gun.
She felt an overwhelming sense of dread as she approached the landing.
He was here somewhere, waiting to jump out.
And it was then she heard it.
Voices outside, and cars pulling up, which drew her to the window.
It was a cortege, with a hearse containing flowers that spelled her name.
And her little brother was wailing, “I didn’t mean to make her fall down the stairs…” 😎
For submission, 100 words:
Lori flicked her eyes up. The cup’s rim had met her lips when the silence broke. Her brows furrowed as her ears pricked, watching the ceiling where she’d heard the sound of a window sliding in its runners.
A pit formed in her stomach and carefully, as she strained to listen, eyes locked on the stairs, her hand quietly, quickly pulled open the side drawer. The textured polymer snagged slightly at her fingertips as she closed her fingers over the grip, and pulled the gun into her lap.
Overhead she heard a thump as weight met the floor, then footsteps.
Thank you for joining in Rachael!
Silence. The Afterlife.
---
Please, I beg you. Stop the pealin' bells!
Please, stop it!
Don' like the Joanna eever eh, ah I reckon?
Nah - I 'ates it! Please! Please stop it!
Ah - why should we? Woman! Why should we?!
Because it 'urts! It hurts so much! That incessant noise! It hurts!
Well, yeah. But you had more rabbit than Sainsbury's, didn't you, eh!
What?
You couldn't keep ya marf shut, when you was alive, couldn't ya! You stoopid cow!
I don' un'erstand!
Yer in the afterlife, ya stoopid cow! Ya gettin' a taste o' yer own med'sin! Fer the next 10 million years!
10 million years?
Yeah! 10 mill.
Well, ya know what?
Wha'?
In 10 mill years, ma shares in British Gas r gonna be werf trill-eeons!!!
100 mg of Silence
--------
The music plays as I concentrate on the beating of my heart to the sound of the Chopin piano strings. Not even the word silence is silent, since you can hear it in your thoughts, si-len-ce.
Thinking is not silence, neither the empty space between music is silence. A look is not silence either, which is why they say that a look speaks.
Can someone be silent when neither this autumn wind is silent, nor the gentle movement of the stars, nor the white of a sheet? Silence is an impossibility, and not even a lost tear drops in silence.
Wow. That one was a gut punch!
Yeah I went ugly here.
Microdosing - 100mg of Silence
===
The presentation was over, and he had to stay for Q&A. He reached out to the water bottle.
The first participant spoke. Long statements with a short question.
He replied, as brief as he could.
She took off his jacket.
The second query came. Words flooding in.
She took off his glasses. His mind wandered off.
Q&A went on for a few more minutes. Finally, he took off his earbuds.
His clothes were piled on the floor. Looking down at his bare feet, he took a deep breath.
She jumped into the pool.
He jumped too, savouring the underwater silence.
Wow. That's a powerful ending, for sure. Great job, Miguel! 😎👍
Thanks Chris!
Wonderful and so sad. 😔
I promise today is going to be a bit more heartfelt !
So sad, so grim... are you okay?
I'm perfect. It was inspired by a ballad by one of the legendary Czech poet Karel Jaromír Erben – The Noon Witch. It's awful and haunting in all ways possible, so I tried to reproduce that.
You certainly succeeded! Good to hear that you're okay.
The children dashed noisily, playing rainy day games. Finally they pretended to be dinosaurs, stomping, roaring, growling, screaming, crashing, until I felt my brain would explode.
"Stop, quiet, no more," I cried, "You're driving me batty, I don't want to hear another peep!"
Shocked silence filled the house, until one mischievous child uttered a single forbidden "Peep!" The others all convulsed in a valiant effort to squelch their amusement. It was such an old joke, and they all looked so silly, that I began to giggle; soon we were helpless with laughter. Silence may be golden, but laughter makes happiness.
oh thats a grim one miguel...but im sure ive seen that film...😉
It is inspired by the Noon Witch ballad by Karel Jaromír Erben a legendary Czech writer/poet! It 's been haunting me since I read it in class lol.
I curiously peek through the cracked door. I see toy soldiers, hear explosions. Caught like a hermit crab in seine , slammed into a can. War dead soldiers lie prize possessions. A warning: Never watch, play with guns. Silent shadows entice, recede. The door opens, a sneak preview. No one will know I fired the cannon. I left some soldiers standing, others kneeling. Searchlights spot. Eagles talons clutch. I am a spy. Pull me from my shell. “Solitary confinement; coffin-contortionist.”
Locks latched. Convicted, I suffocate. Entombed. My mind whispered. Last breath, slow heart beat. Imagine, dream. Silence. Claustrophobia lasts forever.
The Sound of Silence
_____
Miguel, your story hovers,
just above the ground, like the breath
caught in the chest of a mother,
hiding in the shadows of a barn’s rafters,
fleeing from the heavy steps
of soldiers prowling below.
.
Imagine her shawl—thin as silence,
pulled tight against her shoulder,
the sound of a baby’s whimper
soft as a feather brushing the dark.
In her arms, the child squirms,
knowing nothing of the world’s terror
pressed into that rough wool,
into that airless silence.
.
They waited there, unmoving,
hearts drumming in terrified rhythm.
And when the boots and murmurs drifted away,
the barn released its grip,
loosened like a sigh.
.
But then—the truth:
the tiny body held too close,
still now in her arms.
A hush fell heavy upon them all,
each one knowing that this child,
new to the world, had been bartered
for silence, traded for the thin strand
of hope that kept them breathing.
.
The barn was silent.
The world beyond, unknowing.
Creepy - and very well done...
Thank you
Thank you
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