A sigh.
Very well. This will be for nothing; everything will be forgotten in due time. I know that I can be anywhere, that I can live inside your mind as well, because I am nothing—and that is precisely why I exist. Must I live a life like this? Or perhaps there is a final destination. Isn't that right?
…
Neil awoke from a dream he could no longer remember. He looked around his silent room, which now felt foreign to him. He rose from his bed and walked toward the glass window of his apartment.
The window framed a city panorama: a sky of clear blue, towering skyscrapers. He couldn't hear the sounds from outside with any clarity; all that reached him was the ticking of his clock.
Tick… tock…
Neil glanced at the table beside the window. There, a photograph stood on display—a picture not unfamiliar, yet utterly strange to him. It was of him as a child, with his parents. He looked back toward the window. With full awareness, he spoke, his voice barely a whisper.
"Is all of this merely an illusion?"
He closed his eyes, exhaling a breath that made no sound.
…
…
"Mother… will I grow up someday?" Neil asked the reflection of his mother.
She had been gazing into the mirror on the dresser, but before she left, she walked away from it, and her reflection did not follow. Neil watched as that reflection became a mouth without a body, smiling sweetly.
"All creatures can thrive in this world, Neil."
"Hmm? How is that?"
"Because it is simply a rule."
Neil smiled.
"You're wrong. Not all rules are right."
The mouth smiled.
"You are correct."
…
Neil stirred his warm coffee, already mixed with milk. Even so, the coffee remained black. He stirred it again, hoping for the color to change. Nothing. The coffee stayed black, unchanged.
Ting… ting… ting… ting…
Ting… ting… ting… ting…
Finally, he drank the coffee that refused to blend. The taste was the same—coffee with milk—but the color remained unchanged.
"Strange," he murmured.
Neil prepared himself for work. Once he felt ready, he glanced at the wall clock in his apartment's living room.
Tick… tock…
Tick… tock…
Tick… tock…
Tick… tock…
…..
….
…
..
Eventually, he stepped out of his apartment.
…
If you hear it, then it speaks to you. And if you see it, then it is revealing itself.
Humans grow by duplicating themselves. Each copy is an attempt to negate the void. Each reflection is a result, an effort to color the nothingness. Is that not so, Neil?
Neil gazed up at the sky amidst the flow of passersby.
"Who are you, truly?"
I am the world.
Not far from him, Neil noticed a woman. She was running, her face etched with unmistakable fear. By the time she drew close to Neil, her shoulder accidentally collided with his, causing a piece of paper in her grip to fall. The woman didn't seem to care at all. She kept running, without acknowledging Neil, without realizing she had dropped the paper.
Neil picked up the fallen paper. It was folded, bearing several wrinkles. He opened it.
Its contents: "Nothingness means existence."
Feeling unsettled by the paper, he eventually threw it away.
…
Neil was staring into a mirror. The mirror showed the reflection of his own father.
"Hey, Father, give me a question," he said with enthusiasm.
…
…
…
"What is it you want?"
"Something I can't understand."
"What is it you can't understand?"
…
…
…
"I don't know, Father."
The reflection then shifted into that of his mother.
"Mother?"
"There is nothing you cannot understand."
"Huh? What are you saying?"
"Everything is already clear."
…
…
…
The reflection then shifted again, this time into himself.
"You… me?"
"I am the void."
"Then who am I?"
"You are the world."
…
…
…
…
Upon arriving at his office, Neil began to see that people were distorting, transforming into floating text.
anything other than ten
The text floated like a vortex that wasn't spinning in place, yet continuously spun like one.
"Hey, Neil." Someone tapped Neil's left shoulder.
Neil looked left. Standing close by was a man two centimeters taller than him, with blond hair and a faint smile.
"…Gino…"
"You look exhausted. Like you haven't slept in a week," Gino remarked, maintaining that subtle smile.
…
"How would you know?" Neil asked, puzzled.
"Because I know everything."
Neil stared at Gino's face for a long moment.
…
"By the way, why were you zoning out just now, Neil?" Gino's expression shifted to one of curiosity.
"It's nothing. Forget it. I'll go ahead, alright?" Neil left Gino behind, heading toward his cubicle.
"Ah, sure."
A moment after, Gino began to see that people around him were distorting into floating text.
anything other than ten
The text floated like a vortex that wasn't spinning in place, yet continuously spun like one.
Gino smiled faintly.
"I see. So that's how it works."
…
When Neil opened a blank document, it began to fill itself with italicized text.
"Huh?" Confused, Neil read.
Wake up, Neil.
Neil, wake up.
…
Neil started typing.
What is it?
Realize what you are seeing.
What am I seeing?
I am not the void.
Where are you?
The final destination…
…The Little Match Girl…
Neil jolted slightly, and then, all the text was erased. The computer monitor showed the blank document once more.
Neil stared at the screen.
…
…
…
…
Night fell. Neil was walking back toward his apartment. Along the way, he remembered it was payday. He decided to stop at a nearby ATM to withdraw his money.
Upon arriving at an ATM located beside a convenience store, he inserted his bank card. The keypad beeped as he entered his PIN, and he selected "Withdrawal."
A white screen appeared. The confirmation text morphed into simple, black lettering. It said:
*What do you see? *
Neil furrowed his brow. He pressed the cancel button. There was no response. The screen changed.
*Does what you see still hold meaning? *
He paused for a moment, his finger hovering over the keypad. He tilted his head. Something stirred within Neil… a curiosity about the way the world worked.
"Enough of this," he muttered, conceding to the situation.
"Just a few more minutes." A voice came from behind Neil.
He turned. A man, wearing a checkered shirt and a cap that nearly covered his eyes, was waiting in line, hands in his pockets.
"For what?" Neil replied, looking for a clue from the man.
"Wait. She's balancing herself."
*Does what you hear still hold meaning? *
"See? She's reached the auditory stage," the man said, letting out a small chuckle at the end.
Neil let out a quiet sigh.
"Sometimes, the roar of the wind is just a whisper." Neil looked out toward the exterior of the convenience store. "It loses its frequency." He then looked back at the ATM screen.
"Exactly. That's it. Can you still hear the whisper?" The man's expression betrayed a hint of recognition, a faint, joyless smile.
"And the money in my wallet," Neil continued, not looking at the ATM anymore, but at something far more distant. "It's just a trace of something that was once alive."
"It's lost its tone." The man nodded slowly.
Beep…
The ATM screen displayed the prompt to enter the withdrawal amount. Neil pressed the keys, then hit enter. The cash came out of the slot, followed by his card.
He took the money and his card, flipping the bills in his hand, feeling their texture. He brought them to his nose and inhaled; they smelled new.
"All done. Congratulations," the man said, stepping forward.
"Thank you." Neil smiled, putting the cash into his wallet unhurriedly. "Perhaps… she simply decided that the absence of meaning is its own meaning."
He patted the man on the shoulder and walked away. The man watched Neil grow distant, then turned his gaze toward the ATM, his expression more profound than before.
"You're welcome."