The Feeling of Nothing
‘I don’t mind staying here.’ Rane looked out into the nothingness. She tried to remember what colours looked like. Maybe nothingness was a greenish-red. But what did green look like? She had forgotten.
‘Oh, you want to stay here?’ His voice was low now. He bent down so that he could stare into her face. He was not smiling. Rane found that this expression was more unsettling. ‘You like this nothingness?’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘Everything is equal here. I don’t have to exist here. I can exist here. I can do whatever I want.’
Suddenly, he grinned. ‘I have nothing to say.’ And he straightened up. ‘You can do whatever you want. But you can’t want anything here. Because there is nothing.’
Nothingness had no colour, no sound, no sensation. It was like a blank piece of paper that would never hold a pencil mark no matter how hard you colour it in. No matter how much she looked, there was nothing in nothingness.