Dust in the wind.

Something stopped. Something felt empty. There was a pregnant pause, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of everything. The surroundings swirled benignly around, oblivious. Uncaring, maybe. Either way, it was going to be a tragedy. Somebody was going to get hurt. Real bad. We always say we’ll fight to the end. Till the war is over, and the arms are laid down. After all of it, just an uneasy detente. In the end, that’s all it was. It was empty, and the deafening silence hard to bear.