Cameron Gremillion
The absent: it began as the encompassing. I was swaddled in its cradle, its warm fluid aura tinging even the furthest shadows of my roaming gaze. Every ray was reflected through it. One day I asked myself: “what would sadness be like?” I had not the mind to know that the sadness I thought of was conceived through the aura, as the idea is conceived through the inspired mind. I pondered this thought until my world grew darker. Little by little I felt less secure, less enveloped, as if something dear to me had fled and had not left a note telling me where it was going. Slowly I descended until my life was lived through a tiny peephole that was the only source of light in my little cell. This little chamber——how had I arrived in it? And was there any escaping? This thought of escape——this was new. I had never thought about escape before, and it was only here that I realized that my former happiness was a memory and not a ball in which I was contained.