She keeps giving me ideas for stories and I keep blocking them.
She wants our voice to be heard and I keep telling her-if nobody is listening, why bother?
We had many stories to tell, but this period of solace has shown me the way and the way is dark, lonely and long. The stories shall not be told now and the voices in my mind have been quietened, as they no longer clamour to tell their story.
The inner silence is deafening.