Two more, too much.

There is too much to say.

It’s like this.
You’re thinking, ever so deeply, looking up at the stars on an icy night in an abandoned field.  The train tracks run nearby, and you hear one rumbling along.

Just as it gets as close as it can, the engineer decides to blow the train whistle.  It jolts you like nothing ever has.  The noise launches itself through your head with such force it’s all you can do to remember to breathe.

In the two seconds of silence between blows, you forget it had any effect whatsoever.

At the second bellowing scream, you convulse, vomiting on the ground.

Then the train shudders into the distance, and you can’t remember what you were thinking about–even when it completely disappears, leaving no trace of sound.

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