This dark majestic wonder of infinity ceased to be a vacuum and became a collection of dust, like the silly hairlike particles floating in a sunbeam through the closed window where I watched father drink his ale or mother knit her scarf.
I melted into the hardwood floor like the spilled glass of water. I imposed my essence onto the spot with more than just flesh and warmth, and was cradled in nothingness with the other particles. I alone was a speck on the speck. I, together with all the other specks, made the whole. And as a whole we all became much more than specks, much more than floating particles. We became a galaxy infused with the sort of life that can choose to drink ale or knit a scarf or just lie on the hardwood floor staring up into the sky challenging our own existence.