The expanse above an inky unknowable depth, the way forward narrow.
Umin spreads his arms wide and warily. Soon finding the rough-smooth, like glass resolved once and hardened again, walls with the flats of his open palms, elbows slightly bent.
Paces, paces...
Spaces with many corner-cases.
Oh, here you come, here I am!
With laces in hair, on hand…
Something spectral sang soft-sweet, from nowhere and everywhere.
Leaving Umin unable to sift sound from thought. Not knowing whether the voice had entered his ear or found shape in the spaces behind his eyes.
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