Drabble: Journal

I didn't get home at all Friday, until a little after midnight, at which time I flopped into bed, totally forgetting to copy this over and post it. Here it is, if late.

Journal

The last thing to go were the feelings. After the sensations and the memory and the thoughts, there was still emotion. It was a surprise (or would have been had I been capable of surprise) to find that they could exist without a referent. But there did.

I have no way how long I floated in that void before even they disappeared.

And now I’m aware again. Is this some kind of afterlife? I doubt it; my experience of nothingness would imply to me that death is as empty as I’d thought.

Which raises the question: Where am I now?