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nullity, I could detect the absence of memories and dreams,
and most importantly, I could hear the sound of something
about to begin. Swiftly, but with the caution of a mother
lifting her child for the first time, the darkness enfolded me.
It was at that moment when the calm broke upon a sweet
and breathy whisper. It said, “The silence before the womb
and beyond the grave—it’s all for you, my son. Seek out the
quiet of lonely places, and death may not hear you.” It was
my mother’s voice. I determined the whispers must have
come from some distant memory, sealed up within a void
that required the death of several shadows to reacquire.
I thought I was about to exit the makeshift oblivion when
another sound entered into the nothingness, unapologetically
and sloppily scattering muffled voices as it blundered about.
Again, I could feel the burning eyes of my family throwing
fire, trying to force me to ignore some scorned thing that
dwelt—hid—within sleep. Or was the sound coming from
someone else’s dream? With all the dream-swapping of late,
the question had become a valid one. The sound became
progressively distinct, gelling into the pathetic cries of a
child. This was quickly accompanied by another sound,
which seemed the inversion of the soft sadness.
What surprised me most about the second sound was that
it frightened me, yet it was nothing more than a man’s raised
voice. “Stop whining and hold still! If you make me ruin
another painting, I’ll hang you in the room with the rest of
them!” An image tried to connect with the voice, but it was
blocked out by the high-pitched sound of a train whistle.
I woke up on the floor of the passenger car—it appeared
that I hadn’t even managed to make it to one of the seats.
The train was in the process of exiting a tunnel. The shadows
were stripped of their plump inky flesh, leaving behind only
the boney silhouettes of solid earthly objects. I rose to my
feet. There was no pain and no blood. I opened my coat,
looking for what should have been an abundance of ruined
tissue. There was nothing, not even a scratch.
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