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Weekly Contest #345
Everyone in town knew about the hour, but not when or who decided, or why it came to be. Just once a year, on the same night the leaves finally let go, time loosened its grip for sixty minutes.During the hour, you could hear the unsaid.Not spoken aloud. Not exactly. It arrived as a pressure behind the eyes, a warmth in the chest, a voice that wasn’t a voice but still carried meaning as a whisper carried on the wind.Most people avoided it. They stayed indoors. Put on music. Drank themselves stupid. The unsaid had a habit of arriving uninvited...
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