There is no louder silence than that which hangs in the moments between question and answer; between text sent and text response; between dispatched email and the ding of the inbox.
It is what it is, but the palpable void where words should be is weighty.
We all live in this medium now: old-fashioned conversation is delicious but secondary to the thumbs and key strokes of our electronic lives. There is excitement in the anticipation of exchanges such as these, but when "send" sits idle things can get dicey.
I'm sure when Alfred Lord Tennyson penned "the quiet sense of something lost," smartphones weren't on his radar. But it's an accurate description of those moments hanging loosely out there, isn't it?
I don't have the answers, but I do suppose I will take these words and hit "publish." No response awaits. And maybe that's ok. Sometimes they just need to be written.
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