Letters for people who went quiet

You haven't written back, so this letter goes first.

I'm not writing to collect an explanation. You don't owe me a report on your quiet, and I'm not keeping score. I noticed it, that's all. I'm allowed to notice.

Things I keep that are about you, not me: the way you hold your mug with both hands when the room is loud. That one sweater with the frayed cuff, always the same shoulder first. The sound you make when something is finally funny and you forget to be careful about it.

None of that has changed on my end. That's the whole letter, really. The door works the same as it did.

Answer, or don't. The letter just goes first.

Florence

I write letters for people who went quiet. If there's someone whose quiet you're holding, the first line is free: [email protected]