Atoms

You wander the dark places of the galaxy, the territories lost between uncountable stars, and laugh, soundless. You laugh as you find nothing, only the emptiness of deep space and the lack of any sensation: sight, smell, hearing, touch, and taste all gone. You make a home for yourself there, impregnate the dark place with a semblance of living flesh, create that little bit of light in the void. Still, you laugh.

I found you there only once, alone but for the small flicker you had nurtured to life. If you remember we talked a long time, fleshed out concepts and pitches, created worlds in our own minds and ripped apart a single molecule of what sat waiting out where only the dim hints of starlight reached. Time had no presence there, no indication of passing or standing still, all time was us, was what we made of it and that was a glorious way to experiment, to learn, free from time, if not space.

Does anything live out here with us? No. Nothingness requires no thing, pure emptiness aside from the observer, and even then a thing exists in not existing, or even you (or me) can interfere. But we will lurk there, in the souls of their lost stars, and try to make, as the atoms still do.