Mrs. Gosling
20th Century Literature
25 November 2013 I awoke on a brisk Saturday morning in November. I got out of bed and made my way to the kitchen, where hot cider and a chocolate chip scone were waiting. I read the paper while indulging on my early morning treats and then proceeded to do my homework once I was finished. This is my usual schedule on the weekends, but there was something rather unusual about today: My parents were nowhere to be found. I roamed around the house for a few minutes, checking every nook and cranny, but I was unsuccessful. When rushing around the house, I noticed that there was an abundance of the color white emerging though the window. Assuming that it was just snow, I ignored it during my search. After glancing a second time, I realized it wasn’t snow. It wasn’t water or sunshine or clouds or mountains either. It was nothing. When I peered out my window, all I saw was an abyss of the color white. I stepped onto the porch and made my way closer to the unknown, one step at a time. The absence of structure was almost blinding. There was no here, no there, no anywhere. There was pure nothingness. I placed my big toe on the “ground,” not positive of what I was expecting. I lowered my body further and further to the ground, but my toe never touched anything. The ground appeared to be an asymptote that my house was immune to. I turned around and walked back inside my home, not sure what to do with myself. I heard my mother’s voice echo inside my head, “Michael, how are you going to be interesting if you’re always so conservative?” This had to be an alternate universe; there’s no explanation as to why I’m here. Since I have literally nothing to do (and a slight amount of motivation), I figured I might as well make my way back toward the porch. I stepped outside again, still only experiencing visual and cutaneous stimuli. I made my way down the steps, bored with my current state. All I needed to do was put one foot in front of the other and I’d soon find out the consequences that followed. Before I moved any further, I screamed “HELLO?” Not even an echo was present. My toes were curled around the last step. I lifted my right leg and took a step. My body felt like it turned from a solid to a liquid as I fell. There was no