What about them?

John speaks quite often in a series of silent whispers. Molly accompanies him but barely breaks breath at all.  Through the night, hour in and hour out, John speaks to Molly and she stares blankly at the ceiling and nods occasionally. 

It continues for a number of weeks. She stretches across the living roomsofa, John takes refuge in his arm chair and the evening begins. The cycle continues unbroken until John can no longer take the silence. 

In a fit of madness, or maybe desperation, John forcefully takes hold of Molly’s face and pulls it close to his. 

“Why,” he whispers, “Why don’t you speak!?”

She took a deep intake of breath and closed her eyes. 

“Why?” 

“W-will speaking make it better? Will speaking ease the hurt or grief?” She asked in response, “Will talking about it, or about anything, bring him back?” 

John slowly let go of the woman and moved back to his seat. He stretched his feet out in front of him and stared at the toes of his socks.

“No.”