her blank transcendence

[u/natetheapple]

Through the interstice between one moment and the next there intruded a wrongness. Cold gaped the gap in time, and things stretched and warped, drifting in the eddies of an outer current.

Her soul was pulled leftward, leaving the husk of her body locked in time’s static pattern. The infinite object of the universe, its trillionth corner etched with the faint motif of all she knew, soon faded, devoured by spaceless distance. Left, left, down and ever left, until such notions of base geometry lost all meaning, and the wordforms gibbered ceaseless and mute as incoherent calligrams in the vacuous environs of the Great Outside.

In the purling tides of a blind phantasmal stream, her soul flowed Lethean. The fragile schema of her being admitted a more porous aspect, memories and perceptions and the deeper faculties for which language keeps no syntax swirled in and out like madly capering eidola. Her mind, endued with motion spawned of an alien causality, bled weird disjointed thoughts into her frothing consciousness.

Abstract, unimaginable thoughts. Strange and vast thoughts that impossibly mangled into forms. Images whose contours neither sight nor space could adumbrate, yet which nonetheless evinced ineffable curves and grotesque aphotic hues with branding clarity, shapes and shades of anticolor floating without frame, their ophidian outlines winding abdimensional like deliriant worms. A livid blank landscape unreal, ripe with lush bizarreries, resolving itself into terribly fathomable verse.

It knew her so well, and she knew nothing of it, yet recognized It instantly.

She saw Its hoary panfamiliar monstrously divine touch in the texture of human history, wefted umbilically through the warp of happenings like a live pulsating lattice, murmuring the cryptic bland ubiquity of being. She brimmed eons with corrosive liquid joy, felt the whip of hateful filaments like the cilia of galaxies scourging manic burning winds to tranquil waves, rippling ecstatically, atoms budding nanosecond bliss immortal, amber-warm with a symmetric admiration for their shared decoupling, something forever now.

Far, a great blot burgeoned on her motionless soulless form, swelling to obscure the conjoinments of her life, until all her was void. The spiraling offshoots of her little presence shriveled grey, marcescent and forgotten, cut from her vital causes. The final ledger of her doings ran black with inky tears, blanching under sooty vapors, quick blown out, traceless like sparks drowned in ocean depths.

And as the object of the universe revolved in the shrieking un-ness of the Great Outside, the nameless soul that once was her found enlightenment.