“It’s silent,” I whisper to his ear. Leaning my head gently closer to him
“No, it’s not silent, it’s loud,” he responds without even fidgeting.
I turn my head gently, to see if he’s telling the truth. I stare into his eyes and through his brown-amber eyes I look into his modest personality. He is telling the truth. I look back into the vast valley of nothing but green hill after rolling hill. The sun glows from ahead, and gentle white clouds float in the thin September air.
“But, how? How do you hear this, this silence?”
“I don’t hear it I listen to it. I just listen. I listen to the wind blowing cold air, and the grass swaying. Sometimes if you listen hard enough you can hear the grass growing, and they speak to you. They all speak to you.”
“Like how- when I look into someone’s eyes I don’t just look into their eyes I look into them?” I gulp out.
“You don’t look into them, you see them, don’t you?” He gently tells me, using the same caring tone as before.
I feel my long brown hair as it dances along my back as I look into the view. No not look I see, I see the hills. I see the clouds. I see the grass as it sways in harmony, together. I see it all.
“Yeah. I do.” I gently whisper to myself