Claustrophobic. No evidence of photo-
synthesis the sunlight blocked through
conversation. Blackout words, the paint

-ings on the wall are meaningless. One,
a landscape of dull pastels. The other a
drooping couple, Dali-esque but less-

refined. A grandfather clock ticks
endless quiet not enough to mask the
silence, which is deafening.

(originally published in Thirteen Myna Birds, Summer 2018)