The silence drips from the windows, blue varnish bathing the room. Every breath hangs suspended on the glass, turning the day into a blurred canvas. The canvas is wind, the color is waiting; it stretches over the curtains like a promise, dragging the light into a sea without waves. When the last drop falls silent, only breath remains. An invisible painting that breathes to the rhythm of the wind. Blue silence, gentle painter of the house.