Quiet.

Listen. The low rumble of planes, the gentle breeze that runs through the leaves. Do you hear them? Can you hear the heartbeat of the land as it turns, grumbling, sighing at the weight of 7 billion humans living upon it. Can you sense the night, approaching, arriving, staying, leaving. It creeps upon your ears as silent as light but it’s drapery leaves it’s mark. Breathe.

Do you hear that? Thinning gases running from your lips, threading through air and barely, barely making a sound. You’re alive.

Live.