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.