I'm standing on the edge of something white. Something immense and white. I can't tell how long my eyes have been open. I don't remember when I might have gotten here. Or anything else.
I can at least turn my head. Still all white. Actually, there's some off white, almost gray. Kinda floating there in patches, like little islands. I look down.
Where the fuck are my feet?! Oh what the hell. Why. Why do I not know how long I've been here and why do I not have feet. There is, however, some of that off-white stuff. I try walking. That, I can still do. Even though I can't see my feet, I can feel them move, and I step on more of that off-white stuff. It feels, uh... like air? But air that I can walk on. Like dense air. Feels nice. I feel like my feet are... clean. Strangely.
I look up, and look around. There's a silver glint, far away. Maybe a block away, a few people down. Weird how I can still make those kinds of relations while I'm in here. Especially because I can't remember anything. This should really piss me off. But that silver thing is... entrancing. And moving?
It turns. Turns to me. Because it's a person, kind of. Or a silver shadow of one. Part of it waves, just a small ripple at its top. It's becoming less formless (more formed, whatever) by the second. Shaped like a woman. That's looking at me. That's cool? Part of the glint changes, close to where she (it? I don't know anymore) rippled for a second. Right before it's too late and it turns out I'm just staring like a jackass, I realize she's smiling. She's standing with her hands behind her back, one leg poised in front of another, hair rippling in a breeze that isn't there, and smiling at me. There's a slight singing in my ears, like one of the invisible sounds of a computer operating. I raise my hand and wave back, bobbing my fingers slightly. I try to smile too. I can feel myself smile, even though I'm not sure if I have a face.
I can see myself wave! Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement - I look, and there it is, there's a hand! I don't remember if my hand always looked like that. It's broad and flat and strong, but it's also shimmery. And pink. I'm like this silver woman that's smiling at me, but pink. I bring my other hands up under my face and- Oh damn, she's walking away. What a sight though. Even if she is silver and not all there... still got hips, and she knows how to use em. I sigh. I can feel air come out from somewhere inside of me. I might still have lungs.
I look back at my suspended hands. Pink shadows. I don't know if they're shaped like my real body, however it looked before. I turn them this way and that. I may not be "all there", but I'm more there than the woman is. Denser color, more than a bunch of outlines. I can still feel the woman there. I look up again. She's further away now, standing and looking at me again. The silver ripples of her hair twist. She's no longer smiling, but she's looking at me. I twiddle my fingers again, hands still suspended, in another wave. Her head shakes and she turns around to walk away again.
I turn around. I cry out in surprise. That's definitely my voice. I don't know whose voice, because though it's mine, I don't know the name I once owned... besides "Me". Hovering maybe thirty feet away is a square, a colorful square. There's more of the off-white stuff leading to the bottom of it in a path. It looks like strokes from a great big paintbrush, with ill-defined edges. I walk forward. I don't know how this big white space works, but the off-white feels solid enough. I don't think it'll drop out from beneath my feet.
I'm at the square now. It's bright. Strange how anything that exists in a giant, maybe endless field of white, can be bright. I guess it's not a bright white. Just a white, like the color of a chicken egg. I place my hands on either side of this square. It feels like a doorframe. Speaking of doorframes, this square's big enough for me to jump through, no problem.
There's a warm breeze from this square. There's lots of green. I hear the swells of string players warming up. Maybe there's an orchestra, far on the other side. There's the caw of a few seagulls. I can see a great structure like an opera house, crowned with curving points and sun-catching sides, an unusual piece of architecture. Further on, against a blue sky, there's a white ferris wheel.
I stand against the square, this window, thumbs hooked into it, squinting my eyes against the warm breeze. My thumbs... I can see them on the other side of this square. I cry out in surprise again, and I almost fall back from the window. They're normal! They're like any other thumbs on any other person that isn't a pink shadow! I take my hands away from the colored, floating square and look at them. Pink and simple again. I look at the square and gulp. So warm. So different. I raise my hand, pointed like a shadow puppet. Not ready for anything, I dip it in, past this ethereal wall and into the colored world beyond. I let out breath that wasn't there. As I thought: my pink shadow hand becomes a hand like any other man's. I jerk it back through, lest something happen by leaving my hand in the colored world too long. I stare at my shadow hand, flex it, see the mortal hand with lines and nails fade inside it. I look up, through the colored window. So warm, that breeze.
I almost take a step forward. But...
I look back. There's the silver woman. Girl, female, whatever. I don't know what she is, besides a she. She's walking alone, sticking to the off-white islands and trails and floating villas. I look back at the colored window. There's one last fan of warm wind, a sting of orchestral strings. Even the sound of a child laughing. Or maybe it was a gull, I don't know. But this is the last bid I hear from the world out there.
Farewell, window.
I turn and run forward, crying "Hey!" into the white beyond. I don't know what I'm doing.
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