Faces in the Water - Pg 95

   And the days passed packing and piling themselves together like sheets of absorbent material, deadening the sound of our lives, even to ourselves, so that perhaps if a tomorrow ever came it would not hear us; its new days would bury us, in its own name; we would be like people entombed when the rescuers, walking about in the dark waving lanterns and calling to us, eventually give up because no one answers them; sometimes they dig, and find the victims dead. So time was falling upon us, like snow, muffling our cries and our lives, and who would melt it for us?