Silent Performances

The hallway smells of varnished years. Coats hang heavy with borrowed fears. A porcelain angel

guards the light. Timing grace to the second hand. Father counts the silence twice.

Mother smoothes the air till it's nice. The clock ticks gently,

trained and thin. Preparing the room to let us in. The table shines

like practiced faith. Every chair knows its rightful place. Knives aligned like moral laws.

No one touches, no one asks. The children speak in muttered tones. Learning rules they

never wrote. Laughter waits behind a queue. Until it's told what it may

do. I see the lies under the glow. I hear the