This week’s Chuck Wendig Flash Fiction Challenge is Ten Random Titles. Pretty self-explanatory. He gives ten titles, we pick one and go, up to 1,000 words. I chose “The Nobody” and wrote 241 words. My first instinct was to make it a poem, then decided that wasn’t pretentious enough, so I upped the ante and made it a flash piece that is supposed to feel like a poem even though it isn’t. How did I do? Did I succeed in my o’er-weening literary whatever? Please to read and enjoy and let me know!
He floated alone through the mists of deep space. The wind blowing outward from the stars batted him back and forth like a feather before a hurricane. He knew not where he was, but he did not care.
His people had shed their mortal anchors millennia before, choosing to exist outside of their physical being. Those who had refused to make the transition had stayed behind, and had become extinct when their sun went nova. That was not his concern, though.
Very little was his concern any more.
He drifted aimlessly, seeing the cosmos through an eyeless gaze born of the purity of the essence of his soul. He tasted the stuff stars are made of, listened to the howl of a black hole’s pain, and felt the caress of infinity across his consciousness.
He did not think.
He did not ponder.
He did not appreciate.
He just was.
There were no others. The others of his kind who had transitioned with him had long since returned to ground and been lost to the ages. He was content, though, content with his peripatetic meandering. One day he would have seen all that he could see, and when that day came he too would take back on a body and feel solid ground under corporeal feet once more.
Until then, though, he would continue wandering, tumbling through the universe, a gossamer being of energy and light.