Voice

Passing

Sometimes, vulnerabilities occur between the realities. They are subtle, weak at first- they grow in volume before you realize. 

That was the voice. It should be blocked by barriers, walls, and time. However, it is one of those intangibile things. 

It flows, regardless of what may stand in the way. Sometimes walls become nothing but air that let them pass.

The Barriers fall and crumble away as if worn down by a single vibration.

Each time she spoke, her voice gained volume. 

Each time he answered a barrier waned.

Slowly, with time- each becoming that much closer to the other.

The darkness of the night sky hold the moon, as the transparent clouds gave way to it's light. A light that fell on gold tresses swaying ever so gently in the wind.

He lays on the ground as he always has, the slight touch of water surrounding his form. The silence holding him in place. 

Oh ho he enjoyed the time the voice did not pass. 

Though those times are no longer. They were a welcomed distraction-a catalyst to him waking up, to speaking, to do anything opposed to just laying there. 

Red eyes shield themselves slowly. 

And again he can hear her. 

He can hear that whisper passing by. 

He knows he shouldn't but he is capable, she was capable of making it pass though.

"Are you there...?"

The question hung in the air, he breathed, opened his eyes and much as the passing of that voice he met a ceiling.

The flow of the voice sound much closer than ever before.

That whisper, that voice, passed no longer through walls, barriers, and time, but space. 

The space that now contained merely four feet. 

She was hurled in a ball, the sound of a whimper and her shoulders shaking.

She was crying. 

And for some reason, he found a feeling pass through him. He actually wanted to know why she was hunched over in her self contained despair.

When he spoke, his words hung in the air, sitting there, taunting, waiting for the response. Wanting to be answered as he always answered hers. His voice didn't pass, it nudged her to rise and turn towards the voice.

A voice which only minutes ago, seemed to only pass.

"Why are you crying?"

This chapter is in Memory of my mother.