There I was, poised in space, a disembodied eye, invisible,
incorporeal, seeing but not seen.

‘So, is this how it ends?’ I wondered. Am I to be lost wandering this universe, disconnected from everything, yet still tethered to whatever reality I formerly knew? This was beginning to remind me of a Sartre play. I just needed to find some other lost souls to reminisce with, at a Paris cafe.

I tried to move, with what I imagined would be a step. In life, the unconscious firing of neurons would have moved me forward. Apparently it wouldn’t anymore. I began to feel terribly claustrophobic. Was I trapped in this space? Was there a purpose to me being here? Am I to meet someone who’s to explain the significance of my life?

The quiet was unsettling. There was no sound of breathing, no sound of wind, no sound of city noises, nothing.

‘Is anybody there?’

No response.

Nothing.

‘Anyone?’