It’s a striking comparison, isn’t it? When the world outside is blanketed in silence, it forces you to listen to the echo inside your own thoughts, just like a character who feels the weight of unspoken things. The stillness can become a mirror, showing how deep the quiet can be, and how it shapes who we become. In my writing, I’ve tried to let that polar hush seep into the moments where the character’s voice is swallowed by their own doubts. It feels almost... therapeutic, like the wind outside is waiting for the story inside to find its rhythm.