the silence returns

the office is silent. there are just a few noises. the low hum of the a/c turning on when the office approaches 77, or 79, whatever it is set at. it runs more now that it is sunny and warm. the birds chirping on a tree in the front lawn. the clack of fingers pressing against keys on keyboard. this used to be a space that everyone would use as if it was theirs and theirs alone to fill up with sound. sports highlights, country music, phone calls with kids on speaker, admonishing them for being stupid. drinking, jokes. it was a sort of constant annoyance. a reminder of personalities and times that just sort of ran roughshod over all. everything was loud and inappropriate for work, whether politics, family drama, the drinking. nobody cared to care. they stood next to me, at me, hovered around desk and said things to each other that revealed their character.

the noises are gone now and it's better, because when a few noises come back, they come back as anger. indignation at a mask, at a changed setup. the country music and family drama has been replaced with conspiracy and frustration, a disbelief in anything real or tangible, a desire to run roughshod now not with sounds but with virus. the silence is safety, just like it was so long ago when it meant no parents, no teacher, nothing. is it any wonder this is what i believe? it's only when the authority is all gone that i can feel at home in a space. a car door opens and closes outside. the silence is only temporary.