When I came home from work one day, a most peculiar sight awaited me - a chest; heavy, wooden, and laden with gold. I have not been one to try my luck, but something in the chest drew me in. I brought it into my house, set it on the kitchen table. I looked it up and round, and saw no inscriptions, no frescos, no imagery whatsoever, but a single crow feather.
A nothingness, despite the gold.
Naturally, I opened the chest, curious of its interior, hidden behind gold and wood. I opened the box, and upon my eyes was a most peculiar sight; Nothing. Nothing unlike anything I had seen in my life, a Nothing deeper than one may possibly explain. A Nothing that swallows you whole, becomes you, inhabits you. A Nothing you cannot escape.
And so, one may imagine my surprise when I felt myself ripped from this peaceful Nothing, and thrown back into the painful realia of Everything. One may imagine the shock I felt, when below myself I saw blood. Above me, blood. Blood on my hands. Blood on the warm body below me. Blood filled my lungs as I ran. I ran as fast as I could, tripping over myself and cutting my throat dry. I could not run fast enough. I could not escape the Nothing, the Nothing you cannot escape.
The Crows are satisfied.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts of the Past, Dreams of the Future
General Fictionok what the heck. we're doing this. just a funky lil' collection of my short stories and poems
