The Moment Between

There was a moment when the afternoon seemed to pause as if it was holding its breath, suspended briefly between the letting go and the drawing in. Thoughts came to a rest and the wind which had before played in the folds of a curtain, was suddenly still. If it had remained like this for a while longer, I could have glimpsed what was hiding there in that stillness, heard what was weaved through the strands of silence which had intersected my existence, there in that moment, before time drew its breath again and I fell back into myself, back into movement and noise. Now, I am not even sure if it matters.