Only a moment sat in the corner. It cried alone for nothing wanted it and nothing went next to it. They only stood in the other side of the room, glaring through the windows with their flashlight eyes. The moment cannot see them, but it can feel. It knew something was there. Its sorrow was all it knew. For if it knew anything else, the floor would be cleaned. It only once hoped that the flashlight would come in and sit with them. Only to sit. Nothing more had to happen. The saddest is only when there is no one to share it with. When there is something else there is a hope, A faith that attached to the moment. The walls and floor stopped being someone when it started. It hasn’t even seen the ceiling. A quiet silence is the worst. Usually silence screams, only if the echo of the tiny breathing was given enough room to fly. A broken hopeless nothing died as the moment faded away.