It doesn’t ask for attention. It doesn’t arrive with sound. But every time, something shifts. Not out there. Inside. A subtle pressure beneath thought, where words don’t quite reach. Like a memory that never belonged, yet lingers - familiar, undeniable, heavy.
No name. No face. Only the shape of a gesture that always comes back. A fraction before the touch. A breath after it’s gone.
It’s not a call. There’s no request, no urgency. Only the weight of an old agreement. One that was never spoken, never signed, but always understood. Made in silence. Paid for in dreams that were never had.
No one remembers who offered. No one remembers who accepted. It doesn’t matter.
What matters is the return. Not what it brings - what it confirms. That it happened. That it always does. That nothing has changed. And everything has.
And now that it’s here again, there’s no doubt. The air has thickened. The edges have softened. The hush has settled. And something beneath the surface remembers…
What does hush mean to you?
Have you ever felt something return, unspoken, unnamed - yet undeniably real? Share your thoughts. Or don’t. Some things stay with us even in silence…