He lay on the hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. He tried a hot shower, letting steam curl into his ear canals. He chewed gum until his jaw ached. He lay on his side, then the other, then on his back with a pillow wedged under his neck. Nothing.
The silence was no longer muffled. It was clean, crisp, empty. He could hear his own breath. He could hear the tiny scratch of his thumbnail against his jeans. He laughed, and the sound was bright and immediate in his own skull. ears popping after flight
He saw her lips move. Heard a whisper. “Sorry?” he said, too loudly. He lay on the hotel bed, staring at the ceiling
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