KNOWING was the name of the tone that graced every note that passes those lips. They didn't need an answer; they just wanted to hear it confirmed, said, admitted.
But of course, she remained silent. She laughed and she smiled but she didn't breathe a word of the something, the something that had made her proud once, long ago it seemed, but now just embarrassed her.
Why did they all think they knew everything? She hadn't always been like this. She had once been different. Bad, if you like. Different.
She does not tell them the truth. What would they think? Would she lose this awe, this respect, this fear imbedded in their thoughts and their words? This fear that made her smile?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment