It all began with a colossal flash, a blinding burst of light that swept across the world, followed by a furious gust of wind that caught everyone off guard. And then, there was silence. An eerie, pervasive silence that enveloped the entire planet, as though the world had collectively hit the mute button.
From the safety of my window, I watched in disbelief as my neighbors contorted their faces in vain attempts to make a sound. Veins throbbed on their foreheads as they struggled to vocalize their thoughts and fears. It was a day filled with accidents—people wandered into traffic, oblivious to the extraordinary phenomenon, but even their frantic screams remained unheard. Instead, a glazed and shocked expression adorned their faces, an image forever etched in my memory.
What I couldn't fathom was the absence of my own thoughts. My mind, which had incessantly berated me with a ceaseless barrage of self-criticism, was now eerily quiet. I found myself yearning for those thoughts, like a distant lover I had been unable to express my true feelings to before it was too late.
The silence didn't spare any living being. The ecosystem itself seemed disoriented by the abrupt change. Birds collided with the remnants of abandoned buses, their silent collisions a stark testament to the newfound quiet. Dogs, previously known for their boisterous barking, now engaged in hushed, nervous exchanges, as they scurried to find shelter. No one could escape the silence, no matter how swiftly they ran.
Weeks turned into months, and people frantically raided libraries, seeking books on sign language. The atmosphere was reminiscent of an apocalypse, a desperate scramble for the last scraps of sustenance. Perhaps, in a sense, this was an apocalypse, just not the one anyone had imagined. I had pictured hordes of the undead feasting on the living; now, I wondered if that might have been a more merciful fate than being driven insane by absolute, unending silence.
As the years dragged on, unsettling letters began to trickle in from those who were still able to communicate. They reported losing other senses as well—touch, a gradual numbness that crept up as they held their pens, or perhaps something deeper. Personally, I had noticed something even more horrifying—I could no longer feel the touch of my wife.
Before the silence, she had been blind to the world, unaware of my presence even when I was there beside her. Now, I watched her desperately cry out for me, tears filling her gray, unseeing eyes that had once sparkled with life. I yearned to convey that I was still here, that she was not alone, but all attempts proved futile. In this world of nothingness, nothing worked. It was as though everything, including my touch, had become numb. Desperation set in as I realized her breathing had ceased. The worst part was, I had no way of knowing how long she had been like that. I observed her movements grow increasingly numb, her spirit extinguishing like a fading ember. It was as though the world had bled of color, leaving only shades of black and white.
Now, this world was truly nothing. Nothingness was all that remained. I cradled what was left, the shells of a lost battle between mortals and beings beyond. We lay there, abandoned, defeated. I wept, or at least, I tried to, but tears wouldn't come. Perhaps I was on the brink of becoming nothing myself.
The world grew darker with each passing day. Her lifeless face, I wished for it to be my last memory. I wanted her to be the final image of this forsaken world. Beyond these walls, I knew not what was happening. I no longer felt hunger, couldn't muster the strength to walk. I could feel nothing enveloping me, its claws sinking in. I would soon take one last breath as I leaned in to rest my lips on hers, and then, all I felt was nothing.
