I did it. I reached the door. Now, I regret everything.
I crawled through a grousing sea of “me”s until I arrived at the office door. It opened on cue. To be honest, I expected to see myself on the other side, standing in the hallway, holding my thermos and backpack. But I wasn’t there. There was nothing. No me, no hallway, no exit.
What I saw was inexplicable. It wasn’t darkness. I can see darkness: when someone snuffs a light, my pupils stretch and soak it up, sponge-like. But darkness isn’t nothing. It’s merely a stand-in. Whenever we observe the incomprehensible, I think, our minds redact it with darkness. No, what I saw beyond the door was raw, uncensored, terrible nothing. It sunk my eyes into the backs of my sockets and my sockets into the back of my skull. It stretched onwards beyond the door in every direction. It was beautiful. It was horrible. It pulled me closer. I didn’t want to go.
The horde of “me”s croaked. Its hands groped me from every direction; its fingers spidered up my neck and into my nose and eyes. It clawed my hair and tore my scalp like paper. I mouthed a scream, but its fist snaked down my throat and ripped the air from my lungs. I didn’t want me to go, either.
But the door pulled me closer, and the nothing began to dissolve me like acid. My nose was the first to go–followed by my lips, my head, my shoulders, my waist. As I dissolved, I become indistinguishable from the other “me”s who had also crossed the threshold. They moaned as they burned up into nothing. The door pulled, and I gushed out like an infection until nothing remained in the office except broken monitors, trampled cubicles, and overturned desk chairs.
Well, I mean. Not quite nothing. I’m here, obviously, cleaning up. It’s not like I could just up and leave. Last I checked, nothing doesn’t pay the bills. Someone’s gotta work around here.
Anywho, door problem’s fixed. See you tomorrow.
October 9th is over, but this isn’t the end. Not by a long shot. Stay tuned to find out what happens next.
“Morning coffee” is a serial fiction series. So far, we’ve covered rubberneckers, co-workers, cubicle stains, office plants, desk trophies, conspiracies, secret organizations, pocket dimensions, black holes, and impending, inevitable doom. And that’s just the beginning.
Where should we go next? Let me know in the comment section below.
FYI, Irrecolletions is now on Twitter. Follow along for insights, daily snippets, and refills of Morning Coffee.
Also published on Medium.