Drabble: below ground

Rain gurgled down spouts, like a stomach growling.  Empty, hollow beats in the air, on the roof, through pipes and gullies, rivulets and divots. She asked the question, and he pretended not to hear.  His silence deafened. She dug the hole, dug it deep, and filled it with her own beliefs, but nothing grew. Absence makes the heart grow doubtful. Why do women speak first? Sort through the words, and put them all in safe rows. Till it, protect it, keep them from harm. Patience. Silent patience. This was harder than she thought: cultivating truth.  Don’t smother it. Walk away.