Monday 28 November 2011

...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.]

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