When the speech was over and the trial ended, they breathed with relief and came out to the royal balcony. We all took a look at The Mall, St. James´s park... Despite the crowds cheering, it was peaceful. A peaceful view. What else could one wish for, after it was all over?
Silence was broken by a confession when this seemed to be the only way to gain acceptance. Not understanding, not pity; acceptance. But it was not the passport to anything. It put an end to the mystery, it revealed the banality behind the unspoken. It satisfied the 'priest´s' curiosity. It left the lost soul wandering naked, ever since. Unable to recover the silence. Begging for it.
It can mean shelter; or punishment. It may conceal nothing; or plenty. It may embrace breathtaking happiness; or profound sadness. It may signal peace; or defeat. It´s silence. And I´ve been on the 'or' side lately. Still, a relief.