It’s the silence that gets you, that drives you slowly mad.

I never realised how loud our world was until it fell silent.  It seemed that nowhere I went could escape the drone of cars, planes, trains.  The murmur of air conditioning and the muttering of ten billion voices seemed to follow me wherever I went.

Even the birds are silent now.

Once, I hunted for quiet, stalked it with all the intensity of a lion near a herd of gazelle.  I searched the highest mountains and the deepest woods, but still found no peace.  I searched to the depths of the ocean, had myself modified to survive down there.  It was that which saved me, I think.  When the end came, I was cut off.  I didn’t even know it was over until I emerged, weeks later.  Alone.

I used to pray for silence.

Now I pray so that there is none.