silverparadox

Silence in the court, the monkey wants to talk. There is no sound. There is no wail of wind at the shutters, no muffled footsteps on the floor, no whispers of soft breaths of air expelling into the cold. There is no quicksilver laughter or even a drum, a thump, a steady rhythm of a heartbeat. There is one law when you step into Silver Creek: Don't make a sound.~Silver Creek, the people laugh, a little too loud, a little too quick. That small house by the lake? Don't go there, they say, bright, false smiles slapped onto their faces. It's far out. There's no people there. Fishing? You wanna go fishing? The better spots are here and here and ...