Not only have I just completed the first draft of a story I've been working on for over a year, my last drumming class was last night too. I'm feeling kind of... adrift, at the moment. Like something's missing.
So today's prompt is: the void.
They had told the child to stay away. Filled his precious, fragile skull with dire warnings and terrible stories of those who had not listened to their parents. Promised that disobedience would result in grounding for life – should he survive the experience.
But it was not enough.
The boy sat on the edge of his father’s land, his tanned legs dangling in the impenetrable darkness like wooden stir sticks in black coffee. He stared, wide-eyed and completely captivated, into the Void while distant shouts went unheard. They were looking for him, desperately, a small part of his consciousness knew. He would return in another few minutes, that part of him decided.
It was just so black, he marvelled to himself. He’d never seen anything quite so solidly, unquestioningly black before. He had thought that his bedroom, in the middle of the night with the lights out and the curtains pulled shut, was the darkest thing that had ever existed. But now he knew better.
He scooped up a handful of dirt and released it into the Void. He had to lean all the way over, his chest resting against his knees, to watch its scattered tumble. It seemed to fall for a lifetime.
But it must land somewhere, he thought, his brow crinkled with concentration. Surely there was an end to the Void. There must be. But what lay on the other side?
There was, he decided suddenly, only one way to find out.