The Quiet Expanse

Print More

The pale greens of the fields, blending perfectly with the creamy orange sky. It was all there was for miles and miles. Just long beautiful soft grass, under the warmth of the sky. You could feel the wind blow but never hear it. Footsteps too cushioned in the plants to make any noise. There was no sun here. It wasn’t hot, nor cold. A paradise some might call it, but it was endless. An expansive nothingness, and I was forced to walk through it to no end. Nothing ever changed, the same grass, same skies. Never any noise. I knew there had to be something here, something that could get me out, so I kept walking. 

There is a flower. A pale purple flower, with a yellow center. It’s perfect, just like everything else here. Once I saw it in the distance, I ran. Towards the only different color I had seen. Once I reached it, I kneeled into the grass, soft as it ever is. I must’ve stayed there looking at it forever, wondering what to do. I cupped my hands around it hoping to feel something different. Nothing. I squeezed the bottom of the stem, and picked it off. No noise, the stem felt waxy, but nothing special. I held the flower up to my nose and smelt, it was sweet and reminded me of something. Something I couldn’t remember myself. I felt the memory there, and I knew the flower was something important, but I didn’t know what. I thought about eating it. I was never hungry, but something told me it would taste good. I didn’t want to go back to the same green and orange. I wanted the purple to stay around, so I tucked behind my ear, my hair holding it in place. I continued my walk. Looking for something else, fiddling with the flower behind my ear. There was again nothing for the miles I must’ve walked, but on and on I went, the purple as my only motivation. The flower never withered, or lost any petals, it was preserved like I was. The smell, the color, it was still there, telling me to keep going. Until I saw it.

A beautiful ethereal white stag stood a few yards out from me. It had the wings of an angel on its back. It seemed to cut through the orange light of the sky, I slowly crept towards it, trying not to make any noise, despite the fact that there was no noise. It stared at me with its pearl-like eyes as I came closer. I stood right in front of it and reached out a hand. I gently placed it on the top of its head. The creature was soft, and seemed to enjoy being pet, as I slowly traced my hand over to its wings. Something about it was comforting. Another living thing to be with. Something that moved, and could feel. It nuzzled its head into my hands as I pet it. It felt warm, and everything felt better whilst it was around. Not so hopeless. I put my hands on its back, pushing myself onto its back. It had beautiful ivory antlers, which I now looked over. I rubbed my hand against its neck to get it to start moving and it did. I knew there would be more for us here. More things to find, more colors to see. It made no noise either when walking, not that I noticed it much, I hadn’t heard in so long. 

We walked for ages, on and on. Nothing new. I became crazed, needing a new color. Ushering the beast forward, faster and faster. Still we found nothing, running through the same endless field over and over. Becoming more and more on edge, I needed a new color. I gripped my steed harder and harder. It stopped and I moved my hand to its antler. In a desperate motion I ripped the antler out of its head. Beautiful red blood poured out, covering the beast’s perfect white hide. The beast fell to the ground. It might’ve screamed but I couldn’t hear it. I flipped the antler around in my hand and plunged it into the neck of the beast. More and more blood poured out as I brought the antler down again and again, infatuated with the vivid new color. The beast stopped moving, and the blood stopped flowing. Everything around me was stained with blood, but I was satisfied. Finally a new color. I stood over the mutilated body, not moving. I had no intention of walking again, everything was perfect.

Comments are closed.