Ever fleeting. Instantly present and immediately absent. As air, simultaneously there and not, neither here nor there, nowhere and everywhere at once. A swelling phantasm, too elusive to truly let go, too ominous to grasp. Too complex for 101s. To look into a window and see nothing of what's inside, but a faint reflection of what's already behind you. Turning around, you won't have half as much, because to have it all is to have nothing at all. The only light is knowing that you can never know. Let your eyes adjust to the darkness. Nothing is something.