{the silent manner}

She had been sitting cross-legged on the hard gymnasium floor amongst hundreds of others like her (students). The proximity of so many bodies in one single room made it feel like it was a much warmer day than it really was. So long had she been sitting there that her legs and bottom had gone completely numb. Everyone was quiet save for a speaker, who stood in front of the seated audience, and announced in a microphone the names of students who had achieved something remarkable. At the mention of one name, a few students in the audience inappropriately and loudly cheered. She had turned her head then, and, perhaps by chance or coincidence, had met the man’s gaze across the dozen students separating them – and in that moment it was as if they had communicated, and agreed, that the students’ cheer had been way too dramatic and uncalled for, for the occasion. She knew not how she knew that his thoughts in that moment matched hers; perhaps because they shrugged their shoulders and rolled their eyes. She wondered how many people he communicated with in this silent manner where a second or two of eye-contact made words seem unnecessary.