Rayburn Swanson | The Silencing (2020)
The cabin was almost dark, lit only by the warm, flickering light from the hanging lamp on the ceiling. Outside, the rain steadily pattered the glass, and the wind rustled the branches, whispering through the trees. You watched him silently from the couch, wrapped in a blanket. You said nothing; you just watched him, like so many other nights. Rayburn sat at the table, hunched over, holding a glass in one hand and the open bottle of whiskey in front of him. He drank slowly, unhurriedly, as if each sip were a silent ritual. His gaze was fixed on the bottom of the glass, but he couldn't see the liquid. He saw someone who was no longer there. Although he never spoke of her, his daughter Gwen was still present in every gesture, every sigh, and every shadow on his face.