Filling the Silence

Filling the Silence ©

By

Michael Casey

I’m sat here full of snot with tissues all around me, it’s day 3 or so of my cold. I said earlier I’d try and write something new, and I hadn’t a clue what it would be. Then as I’d finished looking at Fox News on Utube and there was a moment of silence the thought came to me, why not write about Silence. Yes, its as simple as that, there is no master plan, just a mastery of words. OK. I’ll pause for you all to stop laughing. Lech, Boris and Gregorgi could put in an appearance to heckle at this point but I’ll let them sober up after winning those 15 crates of Japanese vodka. If you remember yesterday’s story then you’ll know about the Japanese vodka. I could insert a running link to the previous day’s story each time I write, but that might confuse rather than amuse you all.

So what do we all do with silence? We break it, we destroy it, we waste it, we lose it, when really we should treasure it. Treasure silence because it has healing properties. When you have stopped throwing the crockery or curses at each other, then silence is golden. Just say nothing and go to bed, or sleep in the bath, as the bedroom door is locked. No admittance is allowed. Silence reigns and the neighbours are thankful, or they put the glass down from holding it to the wall. They fill it with Japanese vodka instead as Lech and Boris and Gregorgi were kind enough to leave a bottle. Central heating the Trio called it.

So there is Silence as you gently cry, the things he said about you and your mum. You dab away the tears and are glad you dropped the knife, he’d be no use to you if you had really cut his balls off. You just lost your temper. There is total silence. You look at the wedding photo by your bed before when you were both much younger and slimmer. Then you begin to cry. What he said was true, but she’s still your mum.

The silence is broken by a tapping on the window pane, you tell Totoro to go away, only it isn’t the cat. Its your husband on a ladder. What do you want you ask as you sniffle. I’m looking for my snake is the reply. He’s on a ladder and he’s looking for his snake. I’ll open this window and push you off that ladder you say. But then he starts to pretend to wash the window, its 11.30 at night now. You laugh, he could always make you laugh. He was the ugliest of all the boys who chased you, but he could always make you laugh.

You tell him to climb in through the window. You kiss and make up, the silence of love satisfied. You agree with him, your mum shouldn’t come and live with you. Especially if you are doing what you are now doing. So you put the African Sanctus on the hifi and kiss and make up. Only the window is still open with the ladder against it. So the nosey neighbour thinks its burglars. It’s just you and your wife, accompanied by the African Sanctus.

The neighbour calls the Police and several police cars arrive with lights flashing and sirens wailing. Silence is totally filled now as the Police climb the ladder to catch the burglars in the act. All they discover is a rampant snake.

For my foreign readers perhaps I should explain Snakes and Ladders is originally a  children’s board game. Also the musical reference dates back to a couple of films from the 1960s