Pure fire, every nerve awake. Fleeting connections that burn through the silence. The world bends to your will for one impossible second.
Then the switch. The floor drops into years of zero. Dead inside but still not defeatable. Nothing left to lose so the dark can’t break what isn’t there. You reach for that spark again but the air’s gone cold. The echo already fading into the dark that owns the rest of your life. No in-between, only the burn or the burial, just an ellipsis of silence where the light used to be.
And somehow the light crawls back from the void, brief as a gasp before the dark swallows it whole again.
The switch that turns life into years of zero…
© 2026 Thomas Köppen. All Rights Reserved