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Echoes A repetition of sound, decreasing in strength and clarity with distance. A sound that can transfer a moment of surprise, a roar of victory, a wail of defeat, a lustily teasing laugh or thick sobs of agony. The distance travelled measurably equates to the frequency and expediency of a response when another individual hears the sound - Some don't respond out of fear, some don't respond out of respect, some don't respond out of disbelief and some don't respond because they aren't listening. They just hear the echo. Eventually a distorted noise that carries with it no message any longer - Nothing more than another blip on the radar. Reduced to unimportant it soon becomes background noise, repetition of sound declassified to another note in white noise. The more white noise there is the more individuals will in the same breath acknowledge and dismiss it - The audio equivalent of a cloud, where some play it to drown out all unexpected sound to help them sleep. When counting sheep doesn't work, when there's no milk left to warm up and sleep, long after the ale is gone and the hangover had started, just before the tears of frustration threaten to spill, that one thought will calm and soothe. That one single entity who soothes the fire within, harnessing the chaos with a gentle but firm touch, shall fill the mind and at once will be a saviour. The gratitude for aide is immeasurable - But only for a split second. In the same moment their blanket of tranquillity quietens the storm, they shall be relegated to the background. Forever in C22 - Their presence brings calm with the sting of dismissal in the same breath. Forever to help, never their message to be heard. |
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