Prompt Day #328: Sit quietly, close your eyes, and concentrate on the sounds around you. Listen for inspiration. If nothing comes to you, write about a psychic whose “clairaudient” abilities are frustrated.
I listened and Nothing came to me.
Nothing frightens me more, than the sound of that which isn’t there
Its silent breathing inhales my scent, but where it stands, I know not
A shadow amongst shadows, it can’t be seen even with my eyes closed tight
The floorboards creek and groan as the house shifts beneath the weight of its absence
There is Nothing and it terrifies.
Nothing lasts forever; an ancient sentience wrapping itself around me
Following me, sitting up beside me all night as I sleep singing mute lullabies
Nothing is wrong, Nothing is bothering me
It hovers like the heat radiating off the stones in summer
It tiptoes behind me like snowflakes hitting the ground, soundless, weightless
Always there, watching but not seeing, screaming in voiceless rage
It knows me and all I know is that I know Nothing
The birds call out their warning that there is Nothing to fear
And I do.