The Golden Silence

This is the story that should not be told as yet this is being narrated as it is fresh and not too old there was silence its name was golden and it had the habit of sitting quiet in a corner and not speaking all right Silence, quiet and unspeaking is a coil drawn in like hell difficult to break and like in a dirty hard spell then one day, they came with hammer and blew him many times hard and sound, again and again silence broke and he began to stammer unclear and staccato like in truth and falsetto and then he broke words came gushing as if it was a pipe long clogged dirt and filth came sputtering in a flow and they listened in dismay and got ready to hit him away yet he was unstoppable and they wanted now to have him stop he was spilling all beans and in many he raised his fingers clearly indicating them they rued the day they had him struck it was not them but he who had struck they were stuck and looked gloomy at the silence all black and sullied with dirt about them and others and did they bother like hell they were scurried here and there trying to make a recovery falling here and there they tried to cover but were as yet bare they sighed in an exasperated voice wooden it was far better to leave the silence golden.