...of loneliness/solitude

'Another spring, and they were gone: it was April, the sixth of that rainy lilac April, just two days after our happy trip to Pontchartrain...where the picture was taken, and where, in symbolic dark we'd drifted through the tunnel of love. All right, listen: late afternoon when I woke up rain was at the window and on the roof: a kind of silence, if I may say, was walking through the house, and, like most silence, it was not silent at all: it rapped on the doors, echoed in the clocks, creaked on the stairs, leaned forward to peer into my face and explode. Below a radio talked and sang, yet I knew no one heard it: she was gone, and Pepe with her.'

[Other Voices, Other Rooms, Capote, T.]