THEY SAY A PICTURE is worth a thousand words. This is true. But what do they say about silence? About silence between two brothers who are becoming estranged as the months crawl pass.
How many words is that silence worth? More than a thousand? Precious will say, unlimited.
If they are left in a room, if there is no one but them, they will talk for hours, for days, for many years and words, those words will be more than than a thousand.
A thousand is nothing, miniscule like the boiling of peas in a pot but as important as a child learning to walk for the first time.
Opening his mouth isn't the hurdle. It is speaking. Words are lodged in his throat. He turns them over in his head but they sound wrong, off, dreadfully silly.
They are in a familiar hallway, the same corner Kamil trapped him in earlier today is behind him. It is almost as if that happened in another week, in another day where Cam isn't glaring at him.
