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The human mind is a small place.
I try to keep all my notes and my sketches
I archive my stories covered in dust
But even then
I cannot take all who I've loved along with me
Because I loved everyone.
Techno turned over on the couch, squinting into the faint, pale light cast on the ceiling through the window above him. Dust particles gently floated in the air as a silky breeze bristled against the white, translucent curtains. He pat the cushions for where his glasses might be, hand eventually hopping the brief gap to the coffee table where it knocked against a cup, the shrill, chiming sound of the porcelain rocking side to side finally waking him up in earnest.
He felt like he had been sleeping for a very long time. This was backed up by the stiffness in his joints and the sensation of cotton behind his eyelids. Techno sat up and stretched his body to free himself from the lingering discomfort.
This was his living room. Which was also his bedroom and kitchen depending on the time of day, the various appliances, surfaces and comfort objects crammed into one place that still, somehow, felt more cozy than crowded. Turning to the coffee table, he saw two cups on coasters, both stained and empty. So, someone else had been here. But who?
Techno felt a bit silly investigating his own life like a detective, but he sniffed one of the cups – it had an earthy smell that reminded him of a riverside – probably pu-erh. Was his mystery visitor Phil, then? He couldn't image who else he might have convinced to try it.
Still trying to gather himself, he absently stared into the room, from the bricks of the stove and oven in the left corner, through the hardwood counter in the center with knives and tools fastened above it, to the coat hanger and shoe rack by the door, somewhat obscured by the ladder to his right, which lead up to the attic. Only his dark red cloak hung by the entrance. If a guest had been here, they had long since left.
Techno ran a hand through his hair – the braid had loosened and as his fingers wove through the pink strands, they came apart easily, the hair tie nowhere to be seen. Ah. No wonder he couldn't find his glasses. He was wearing them. Techno let out an amused exhale.
What time was it, anyway? The faint, foggy light seeping in could have indicated anything from early morning to dusk. He turned around, knees on the cushions, and leaned out on the windowsill.
The mist was so dense that he couldn't make out anything, except for a flat whiteness. It felt like staring into the flash of a camera, except the light never went away. Or… Was it snow? Yes, this was a tundra and snow blindness was a thing, but… Some mounds, weeds or bushes should have been present at the very least.
Techno leaned further out and glanced down. Below he saw the stone brick wall of his house, the slightly raised window of his basement, and then… Nothing. It wasn't fog and it wasn’t snow, either. It was just absence.
"Yeah, seems reasonable" he noted to himself.
Deciding he needed to check out whatever this was, he hopped off the couch, squeezed through the small space next to the coffee table, then quickly grabbed his coat and flung open the door to the landing outside.
In the middle of the nothingness stood a familiar, blond figure, wearing a green and white bucket hat and a black cloak.
"Phil!" he called out, wrangling his coat over his shoulders as he darted down the stairs.
His friend lifted his head at the sound. “Techno!"
Some sort of primal alarm sounded in his brain before he could step off the stairs, however, mind suddenly overtaken by a sense of vertigo as he stared into the void upon which his friend stood with ease.
"They took the floor" Techno said, mouth a thin line, and Phil just laughed as he walked over.
"Ah, man, I'm glad you woke up" his friend sighed, "I was poking you and everything, but nothing seemed to work"
Techno raised an eyebrow. "Mildly concerning"
"Yeah, a little bit" Phil replied, chuckling at the understatement. “Hey, maybe this is like skyblock”
Techno gave a thousand-yard stare. “If I have to eat another potato, I will kill a man, Phil. You don’t know the things I’ve seen”
Having nothing better to do, the two picked a direction and started walking. There was nothing in the distance as far as the eye could see, their only points of reference in this world being each other and the house, which grew increasingly smaller, until it was but the size of a dot.
They talked about many things on the way, recalling shared stories and cherished memories. The further they went, the brighter the whiteness around them seemed to glow, until it was nigh impossible to see.
“What now?” Techno asked.
“I’m not sure” Phil replied. “Though, I get the sense that…” he looked back at the small, black pinprick of the house in the distance, “Someone, somewhere has just forgotten about us”
Techno looked at him through the blinding fog. The outlines of his features began to blur, like a drawing slowly sinking into water. He placed a hand on his shoulder.
“See you, I guess”
And, with that, they both disappeared.
The next to go was the house’s foundation, the shoe rack and the coat hanger, the teacups, the coasters and the attic went away, too. Gone were the windows and the bookshelves, the stove top and the counters were no more, until all that was left behind was an empty page, unknowing and unaware of the vast world, of the people and cities, that had once been drawn upon it.