I dreamed I was listening to silence

I was standing in a field at dusk, not moving, not breathing—just listening. And the silence wasn’t empty. It had weight, texture. Like something was speaking just beyond hearing. I kept waiting for it to shift, to crack, but it didn’t. It just… was. When I woke, the house was quiet, and for a moment, I thought I could still hear it—the way the air held its breath between thoughts.