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Silence: He is looking at the floor. It is much closer to his face, now that he is bent at the waist, instead of just looking down with his neck. The tiniest veins of grey in the white marble can bee seen with resolute clarity. Even that means something, the detail. The pain is in his stomach, but it is pushing through his eyes. Yes, it is going down, but very slowly. Breathing is important now, deep relaxed breaths. The pain is subsiding, but too slowly and he realizes that he is trying to catch his breath. That panics him, especially since his father is still there, waiting for him to straighten up. He sees his father's shoes- one in front and one behind, ready. They are brown shoes with darker flat brown laces. The leather is flexed and creased and still shiny in some places. No plan is coming to mind. The floor has no answers either. Just 12" x 12" white marble tiles, with grey veins, polished to a high sheen. His father's shoes have dark rubber soles. It was rubber vs. socks.