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by Angus
Rated: E · Prose · Dark · #1818184
About Something


Two o'clock in the morning.
The crisp dark shadows under the bright light of a full moon remain silent and still.
The night holds its breath.
As if it is waiting for something.
The power is out. The square eyes of the buildings are dark.
No cars. No people. No wind. No movement.
There is nothing. The world has stopped.
But there is something. Something is coming.
You can feel it out there. The more it's not there, the more it is.
Waiting. Just waiting.
Is it waiting for me? Or am I waiting for it?
It's too quiet. Too dark. Too still. Too nothing.
But nothing is something.
It wants me. And you. It wants all of us.
Like a big black hole, it wants to swallow us.
To eat us.
This nothing that's something.
It's nowhere. Everywhere.
Deafening silence.
It hears us. Sees us. Smells us. Feels us.
It wants us.
This nothing. This something.
It's hungry. It's starving.
Close your eyes. Can you see it?
It's coming.

(Click the arrow on the right side of the screen to turn the pages)

It's under my real name, so sshhhh! Don't tell anybody!
Thank you,

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1818184-Nothing