There's Something to Be Said

“There's Something to be Said About Not Saying Anything” (246 words)


The fabric rips between her fingers and tears down the middle after only a quick, hard pull. She wrinkles and twists it in her hands and lets it fall to the floor.

The scissors chop through and release the downy insides to fly through the room. She pulls what's left and throws it in the air.

The cord yanks from the plug and the metal barely bends. She pushes both tabs back and forth, back and forth until she knows it can't be fixed.

The wood creaks and groans until it cracks against her insistent shoving. She pries the tops off the cans and colors the floor and ceiling with nothing important.

The pictures go untouched when she walks out.

Puffs of air can be seen in the early morning light. The jogger runs by while she walks.

Whispers of pages can be heard throughout the room. Readers look up to see her walk in the shop.

Voices of two people can be heard with the angry tones turned down and the detached words turned up. Nobody bothers to pretend not to watch when she walks in that door.

Splatters of paint cover the pages on the wall where people stand and argue about what they mean. Painters look up from their work as she stands in front of the desk.

Lights dance off the gold ring when it's tossed in front of him.

The door chimes on the way out.

Nobody follows her.

Ella breathes.