Call

I call into the void

Does it call back?

No I think not. For within the void there is nothing. I call out to nothing and from the nothing I wish to hear something back.

I am alone.

Though I am not.

This enigma of mine, how curious, how queer?

I can no longer descend down into the depths of my conscience for fear of what lurks below in the blackened depths. And so I remain above, in the stuffy attic where light still shines into the windows of my eyes. I've hung mirrors around this room and broken each one by one to prevent my final fall. But what happens when none remain?

When there are no mirrors left for the light to reflect off of and the windows of my eyes close on the sun for the last time.

I call out to the void. And I can almost swear I hear a reply.

Oddly enough it sounds familiar.


My voice.