...of a void

"I have nothing left," Navidson says slowly into the micro-cassette recorder. "No more food. No more water. [Long pause] I have film but the flash is dead. I'm so cold. My feet hurt."

Then (who knows how much later):

"I'm no longer sitting on anything. The slab, whatever it was, is gone. I'm floating or falling or I don't know what."

Now, except for when Navidson speaks, silence predominates.

Not even the growl dares disturb his place.

[House of Leaves, Danielewski, M. Z.]