Noise

“I love you.”

I heard it clearly, so clearly like seeing myself on a pristine swamp. I looked around, looking for its essence, but I find none. The words transformed into smoke, and to smoke, it was gone.

“I love you.” He said again, a bit louder.

It is no longer a music nor a rhythm nor a melody. It is just like a noise, a noise like a creaking ceiling or a breaking window panes or an alarming clock.

“I love you too.”

The words I muttered are like a force compelling me to do what is right.