Time for another little snippet of writing! I heard the term “the call of the void” and was instantly fascinated by it. Enjoy!
Lately she found herself being drawn to the strange feeling of comfort that comes on the edge of chaos. She said it again and again: there was something calming in standing just on the edge of pandemonium.
She knew that the waves crashing on the rocks could pull her out to sea, could turn her bones to dust with hardly any effort, yet only when she heard their crashing did her heart finally stop racing.
She’d sit on the edge of her balcony with her legs dangling in the open air, 13 stories up. She’d feel the wind whistle through her hair. The height was dizzying, but only in that open air did she feel she could get a full breath of air.
She was smoking too much, and the drugs muddled her thinking, and each time it took more and more for her to get high. Each time she used something harder, but there was something about the way that they scrambled her mind that allowed the thoughts to quit running through her head without end.
She’d go flying down the road at 90 miles an hour, with her hands out the sunroof and her knee taking the steering wheel. Just for a second, she’d see herself flicking the wheel, going head-on into traffic. She always stopped herself, but there was something about knowing that she could.
L’appel du vide—French for “the call of the void”—is what I’d heard it called before, but I never really believed in it until the void started calling for her. It was only a matter of time before she answered its call.
There’s a possibility that this little snippet could be incorporated into a larger piece that I’ve been thinking on for quite some time now. Hopefully I’ll be able to find somewhere to work it into.
Stay tuned for more updates,
xoxo, second sister suzie