But silence has a downfall. Silence is when the thoughts come. Accidental thoughts, ones you’re not even trying to think of but there they are, growling away all the same from deep inside your monster of a conscience, ones you’ve been ignoring all day because if you don’t ignore them—if you were, perhaps, to ponder such things—the very fabric of everything as we know it might pull and fray, and then what? But that is the question, isn’t it? And then what? And actually, really, and then even what?
