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Closed door

Calm Zero

The air had become colder and was filled with division. Every thought that clouded over the room was slowly detaching and was starting to shrivel up, to parch and to melt. There was no clear direction. The shout of a male voice from the upper floor passed through the ceiling together with the resentful and slightly scared replies of a woman and the noise of her heels, but it was still possible to listen distinctly to the background silence. Silent sounds have different duration and depth; they’re molten together with the matter that produces them: they were born at the same time but they choose to reveal themselves later, at …