Nothing more than shadow, first. Tinged, perhaps, with the essence of color. Not enough though to rouse anymore than the most fleeting thought; that, shadow, was- something, someone, some…what? The uncertainty though, lingers; it builds and coalesces into the tangible knowledge of no longer solitude. Metastasizing in the multitudes beyond existence. Glimpse by glimpse unbalancing the delicate equilibrium between this reality, yours, and other waiting breaths beyond the vague horizon. Degree by degree, change. Subtle as the senescence of leaves from richest green to gold to dust. Fleeting shadow takes up residence in corners darkened beyond natural intention. Resisting even the most valiant coercions of exponentially waning light. Amassing and encroaching with deliberation a blackness beyond the simply absent illumination. Until all that remains, a glimmer in the closing night. Tinged, perhaps, with the essence of color. Not enough to stir the screaming silence. Softly, something- someone- no more.