Nothingness

No matter what, she always ended her day looking out the window.
The ::nothingness:: always stared right back, daring her to look deeper, asking her to guess what was on the other side, and creating fantasies and nightmares to fill her dreams.  It let her think, reflect, and process the day, and those to come.  It was the perfect blank canvas.  The nothingness was magical.  It was this completely void space that, when lit, was filled with trees and air and bugs.  Now, it was only black.  And there it was… being nothing, and yet encompassing so much of what she was.

How much of what she saw in that window did she see in herself? 
Was it the reflection?  The lack of reflection?  The bugs searching for the light bulb that they would never attain?  The cats trying to get the bugs that they too would never attain? 

When she looked out into the nothingness, what was she expecting to see?

You know, she would never tell you this, but she used to be afraid of the nothingness.  She hated the sensation of looking into a void… knowing that at any moment, something could pop out and into the light.  (Blame it on the scary movies…)  And if you added a flashlight into the mix, it made the situation even worse.  Not only are you staring into the void, but you are highlighting different points of the void in hopes of finding something – something that will likely pop out at you and into the light at any second.

But now, as she faces the void – the darkness – the complete nothingness, it’s not so scary.  It’s unclear what happened, but the void isn’t something where bad things lie, but may rather just be a place where the light is absent for a second.  Everything ::may:: still be there, and when the light hits it, you can rest assured that it is.