In an empty apartment -

I walk down the hallway, close the doors, turn out all the lights. The soft breath of the central heating sighs on. Otherwise, it is silent. I flip on a song or two every now and then, but the silence only seems more acute after they're over.

Sometimes I'm sure I live with a ghost, or maybe I occasionally slip into an alternate universe. They say it's easier than you might imagine, one wrong step and a new horizon blossoms out of the old, or this reality simply slips away out of the corner of your eye. Your voice, the incandescent incantation, breathes life into the transparent figment I conjure. And you are there, in a bright burst of hope and color. I know it would be too much to ask you to stay.

So you go, with a hiss like electricity, you slip away.