I looked out the window and I felt quiet, quiet, quiet, quiet. The silence reminded me of being lonely, and it's how I have been for nine months now. I belong deeply to myself and to the trees, perhaps, and even less probably, I am one of them. He whispers my name, twice, because it's all he knows, and so I lie back down in bed, my blanket empire, my pillow kingdom, my home of duvet and memory-foam. I find my heart once more deep in my belly, intestine-armoured and shy. His eyes are good at being blue and I'm good for nothing.