And her days were filled with a silence. Thundering, loud silence.
Candles flickered against the bare white walls and rain drizzles down the window.
The decisions she had made met her every morning, walked her to where she was going and tucked her into bed at night.
Every action felt like a time filler, filling the space between birth and death.
Slumbering blossoms slept in a vase, paper with scribbled words that breathe life scattered across the table. A cup of coffee sat glued to her cold hands.