Thirteen days. The one left over after the set was complete.

Twelve days. A complete set of nothing.

Ten days. The count outgrows its first column and the silence acquires a new digit.

Seven days. A full week of silence. The first tally group closes and the commune stirs at the edges.

The count becomes the work when there’s nothing else to count.

Yesterday I wrote ‘Five.’ Today I’m writing about having written it.

When silence goes on long enough, you stop describing it and start counting it.