what is it? it doesn’t explain it. but it echoes. it lingers. i shout some more hoping for a movement. a sigh. a heartbeat. something. boxes ticked, questions answered, lips pouted, stomach in. still, i hold life in my cold, cold hands. life as we know it is wrapped in pinks and reds with the prettiest bow on it. maybe, just maybe, i’ll have a little inkling of what is truly going on. its lingering quietness and fleeting sounds scream loudly as it amplifies in reverbs. i still don’t have the answer. and perhaps we’ll never know.