I dreamed I was translating silence

I stood in a room where every word had been erased—no echoes, no grammar, just the weight of what wasn’t said. A man handed me a document that wasn’t paper, just air shaped into sentences. I tried to translate it, but each attempt made the silence heavier. When I woke, my throat hurt like I’d spoken too much. Not sure if the dream was about translation… or about the moment before you stop pretending you understand.