Edge of an Abyss

As I inched myself away from the window and towards the door I was relieved to find the force abating, to the extent that by the time I’d moved a few metres I was able to stand just outside the doorway quite comfortably, without feeling even a breeze.

It was a studio flat and I was now a step away from the front door, which the moment I looked at it ‘blew open’ outwards into an optical illusion that was impenetrable darkness, the edge of an abyss. It had to be an optical illusion, because despite the extremely unusual circumstances, I was fully conscious, and knew full-well that there was a street light right outside the front door and enough ambient light from the city to ensure it was never completely dark, not even in the depths of night.
With the wind raging behind me but all apparently calm in front, the idea of walking out and away was more than appealing. I was just about to do just that when the pitch of the darkness suddenly struck me and I sensed the collusion of this darkness with the evil wind.

I realised in that instant that I was being lured away from my body and knew that I had to go back. I’ve often wondered what would have happened if I had gone outside instead.