On A Quiet Street Novels & Stories

I have never trusted quiet. Not the gentle kind you get after rain, when the world smells rinsed clean and birds reclaim their arrogance. I mean the kind of quiet that arrives after violence, when people pretend the silence belongs to them and not to whatever is simply waiting its turn. The village had that second kind.

~STEVIE~ I learned early that silence could be louder than shouting. The compound had its own version of quiet, the kind that settled in the spaces between noise instead of replacing it. Engines still kicked over. Someone still slammed a door. Laughter drifted from the kitchen and died halfway across the yard. But underneath all of it was something watchful, like the place itself had learned to hold its breath. I sat on the steps outside with my boots planted on the gravel, elbows braced on my knees, cigarette burning down between my fingers even though I barely smoked anymore. Old habits stuck harder than sense.

“I’ll go with you,” Steven says. He leaves his tablet on the couch and walks toward me. Together we leave the room and head into the hallway. As we walk, only the sound of our footsteps is audible. “I kind of forgotten how quiet it is here,” I say. Quiet, when no one’s making any noise, that is. There’s no sound of street traffic or cars honking horns. No students down in the rooms below blaring music or partying late. “It’s been quiet here lately,” Steven says. “Too quiet, some might say.”

His wolf told him he found his mate but she seems to not feel a connection with Andrea as he wanted. The streets were quiet and seem like it is dead. The sounds he can hear are the leaves rustling in the breeze and the pitter-patter sounds of raindrops falling on the ground. Together, they compose a brilliant song of nature. No din from the high-school students, no irritating noise from the cars. No one, not even a soul dares to make a sound to disturb this moment. Everything is silent, as if it isn’t even alive, just like a ghost street that only emerges in the mid-night and will vanish when the first sunlight strikes down from the sky. Wet dirt mixes with the smells of perfumes that are le

She nodded once she understood and waved Hailey goodbye. She really needed the time alone. * * * "Is this where their tracks stops?" the cold voice of Edward Collins asked. "Yes sir" his driver responded. The car was parked at the corner of the beginning of a remote,damp street. Edward looked around. There was no one in sight. It seemed the residents here are very reserved people. The area was so quiet that Edward asked the driver to switch off the engine of the car. The noise coming from it seemed to be a nuisance and he needed to think.

Descending darkness slowly blanketed the sky, painting it in hues of magenta and pink. The setting sun cast a warm glow on the sleepy estate as residents retreated into their cozy homes for the night. The trees stood still, their branches bare and exposed against the orange sky. A distant owl hooted its way into the silent evening, and the only sound that punctuated the quiet was the crunch of leaves beneath her feet as she strolled through the deserted streets. As Chelsea wandered through the streets, she couldn't help but notice an eerie silence that had cast a spell on the entire estate. Although one could hear the faint hum of distant traffic, there were barely any sounds in the neighbor

CHAPTER 79 A quiet Saturday morning settled over Crescent Avenue. The neighborhood was unusually calm. Birds chirped from the trees lining the sidewalks, sprinklers watered freshly cut lawns, and the warm breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers through the street. It was the kind of peaceful morning that made Crescent Avenue feel like a place where nothing unexpected ever happened. Until... The loud rumble of a moving truck echoed from the far end of the street. Several curtains twitched almost instantly.

There was a long silence in her house. The street downstairs had gotten pretty crowded and thus the noises from downstairs filled that silence in the old house. It was evening time and people were now outside cause of how good the weather was. There were noises from people passing the street and from the vehicles and they were in. Some people had taken out their pets for a walk and thus sounds of dogs barking could also be heard and all those sounds seemed to echo in that house. It was evening, and the sun was setting; the sky had turned orange and seemed to put an orange shine on everything. It was a beautiful sight. Even that noisy street seemed peaceful to both of them.

Cara laughed at the idea of her friend's lack of originality before turning and and walking back down the street. Walking alone without the distraction of the calico, Cara took more notice of the neighborhood. Other than some birds chirping it was eerily silent. S he hadn't seen a single car on the road. The neighborhood roads weren't usually overly busy. But there were several families that lived here. So it was unusual to not see at least a single vehicle driving through. There were no radios playing, no children laughing or playing,, nothing. Cara wondered where everyone was. She should have seen at least some signs of the people who lived here as she walked along.

Didn’t stop for food. I entered my black SUV, loaded my bag in the back, and headed north with my jaw clenched so tight it felt like it might snap off. Three hours later, I rolled past the town sign: BRIGHTON – Welcome to Quiet. I almost laughed. Quiet was exactly what Jessica wanted. Exactly what I wasn’t. I parked across the street from the small, rustic grocery store Vincent had mentioned. There was nothing fancy about the place. White siding. Green roof. Wooden sign. Barely two cars in the lot.