Silence.

I once had a strong impression that various random sounds gave depth to the mood of the moments in which they occurred. And to the events they accompanied. Not important events, because those have their own mood that dominates everything. To unimportant, nondescript events. Meaningless, change-nothing events. I remember from a certain, fairly early period of my life, countless such trivial moments along with their trivial sounds and their moods. Hundreds, maybe thousands.

A hunched man walks down the sidewalk and passes another man, also hunched over, quickly sliding a shovel under a pile of coal. The shovel scrapes against the sidewalk and the coal. Metallic and clattering. Mood: melancholy and strangeness.

A large dog on a leash suddenly leaps toward an elderly woman. It makes a sound somewhere between a bark and a growl. Its voice catches in its throat as it jerks to a stop on the leash. The bark-growl ends in a short yelp. A truck passes nearby, accelerating. The engine's sound blends with the dog's voice. Mood: fear and cheerfulness.

Music school, empty hallway, and a clarinet trill. Mood: bottomless emptiness and hopelessness.

And so on. Then I forgot about it.
 

And now I sit in this silence, and I remember.