The Edge of Silence
There are moments in life when pain is no longer sharp. It does not scream. It does not crash. It settles. Quietly. Heavily. Completely. That was where Maya had arrived. Not at the height of her suffering—but at its deepest point. Where everything felt numb and overwhelming at the same time. Where even breathing felt like something she had to remind herself to do. Days had passed since Calvin left for Minnesota. Or at least—that was what he said. Maya no longer tried to make sense of it. Truth and lies had begun to blur together until neither held meaning anymore. What remained was the aftermath. And she was drowning in it. Her body had grown weaker. Not dramatically. Not suddenly. But steadily. Like something inside her was slowly shutting down. She barely ate. Bare
- Writer
