Allora (Italian) : A filler word most of the time (well, so, then, in that case, at that time)
His mouth had moved, and I watched every muscle make the motion to open and close, but the words that sprang forth was nothing but empty space.
He smiled thinking I could hear his words, and so I smiled to help him think that I heard his words. Our smiles filled the room, the only other noise, the clock. The clock ticked slowly, filling my mind, and eventually, I smiled for the clock, and he smiled back, thinking I was smiling for him, for the words I couldn’t hear.
And he talked again, his mouth making the motions to speak, but the words clasped into his lap, leaving the air between us to find the lull in the clock, ticking away. The way his eyes blinked matched with the ticking, until his face became the clock, his eyes the hands, the numbers his skin, the white blending perfectly.
He opened his mouth again, the words spilling out appearing in my ears as nothing but wind, the ticking continued. We sat like this for as long as the clock kept ticking. He stared back, watching my eyes as I watched his, trying to find his words hidden within. The sun cut through the glass of the window surrounding our room, grazing my face in a warm balm, wrapping around towards my ears. The dust in the room settled against our eyes, our lashes protecting our retinas, his lashes slowly ticking away. I tried to find a word in my mind that would escape my mouth and enter his ears. I tried to find a word to fill the space.
I opened my mouth, and spoke.