Her soft breaths muffled the silence in her apartment. Water trickled, one drop at a time at the far end of the room. The ticking of the clock sounded louder than it was meant to be.
Someone was playing the piano a few floors below while someone else paced up and down on the floor above. The couple that lived next door were arguing over dinner and the voices drifted into her room.
If one listened closely enough, the rustling of the leaves on the trees down below characterized the wind. A dog whined as it nursed a wound.
The pages of her book ruffled as it lay on the floor.
But she dwelled in oblivion.
She couldn't hear any of it, not ever her soft breaths.
Imagery. I love.
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