Drabble: The Rub of Nothing by Rebecca L. Brown

by specklit

“The walls are closing in again.” As if I didn’t know.

“Then go outside.” I shrugged.

“Maybe I will.” Outside, it isn’t dark or light. It simply isn’t. Infinite amounts of nothing pile up all around the walls. We keep the curtains drawn and try to make-believe we hear the sound of early evening traffic passing. The last person to leave – we forgot his name the second that he stepped beyond the doorstep – never made it back.

We press up close and try hard not to think about how soon there won’t be room for both of us.

Author’s note: This piece started off as a thought about claustrophobia; would people be desperate enough to escape a closed in space to risk moving into the unknown or the unknowable? What if the closed in space was all that was left?

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