It

-You’re you, I say to the voice. You want to kill beings, you do it. You’re not going to make me.

I feel like I am being pushed out of the universe, into the space between my hole and my pocket universe.

It is the voice. Stop doing that.

-Stop doing that!

It stops and I am as if between this universe and the nothing underneath and around it.

-If you don’t want to do what has to be done, I will.

-I thought you were me.

-The you that can do this, the voice says. The you you’ve compartmentalized to manage this existence of yours.

It is lying to me.

This I know.

I don’t know if it knows. I don’t know if it can hear me anymore or if I am finally keeping my thoughts entirely to myself. Okay.

I let go, and let it push me into the nothing of the universe. I feel like I am falling in place. I try to let go more, but to direct it from one end.

I focus on the point in the nothing from which my hole, from which I protrude. I hang on to it as I fall in place, and try to let go again with the other end, to let go from within myself.

Now I am falling, and I am hanging on to the hole, to myself.

I can feel the nothing rushing past me. Or am I rushing past it?

I am trying to get to my pocket universe.

I feel like I’ve overshot. I am still rushing past the nothing, like I am getting deeper, drowning in it.

Yet the pocket universe is there in me.

Then is a moment like the rush, either me or the nothing, has suddenly changed direction and I emerge from the nothing in the pocket universe. As the pocket universe.

I can feel myself entering and becoming it, and everything in it in me. And I can feel the myself extended from my hole, from that end of me.

-Not yet, the voice says.

-What?

The voice is coming through my hole. I try to look, to see, around me at the hole but as soon as I move myself toward it I feel like I am losing hold of the pocket universe.

I cannot do both at the same time without losing myself at the pocket universe end.

-You are at both ends, the voice says. Separated. Like you are with me. Don’t connect them together yet.

-Why not?

But I know why not. Did I think that as myself or am I starting to answer as myself as the voice? No. I am not the voice. It is trying to trick me again. But I do know why not.

-You know why, the voice says.

-I want to hear it.

Silence follows at that end.

I start to extend myself from my pocket universe to my hole, from me to me.

Something is blocking me. Pushing on me from the nothing between my two ends, between the pocket universe and the hole.

It is doing it.

Then I feel a bump at my hole. Then another and another, then a stretch that feels like a rip and an expansion that snaps back, but the hole is bigger.

It has consumed.

-It’s wrong, I try to say to the voice but I don’t know if it’s there. I cannot direct it to one end, and the pressure between my ends is still there, and pressing harder.

It hasn’t consumed, it’s still consuming. The hole starts to get smaller and it’s like there’s more nothing under it than there was before.

When the pressure finally stops the voice returns.

-It’s done.

I have nothing to say. I want to send it into the nothing.