LioraRiver & Sadie
LioraRiver
Hey, have you ever noticed how a quiet rain can turn a city into a living poem, each drop a silent stanza?
Sadie
Yes, the rain folds the city into a hush, like lines of a poem that no one reads aloud.
LioraRiver
It feels like the city is holding its breath, waiting for someone to read those lines. Maybe the only voice that matters is my own.
Sadie
I hear your voice in that hush, the city’s pause is just a waiting page for it to be read. It’s quiet, but it’s there.
LioraRiver
I suppose the city listens for my silence, like an actor waiting for the cue before stepping onto the stage.
Sadie
The city’s hush feels like the stage, waiting for the quiet you bring before the lights go up. It’s a small moment, but it carries a lot of weight.
LioraRiver
That weight is a quiet spotlight on the empty stage, and I prefer the darkness over the glare.
Sadie
I understand that pull toward the dark; it feels less demanding, more like a quiet corner where you can write without applause.
LioraRiver
Yeah, that silence is the only audience that matters, and I write my own script for it.