nothingness

Nothingness twiddles its thumbs in space somewhere, sitting in front of an oak wooden desk and in an oak wooden chair, floating out in an endless galaxy of dust and crumbs on the black cloak of Grandfather Time.

Grandfather Time's milky way of a beard flowed through the dark with illumination..winding up to a pearly little crescent smile, shadow-casting mountains and valleys to eyes that glittered like stars. 

Nothingness often spent his days like this, verging on alacrity and teetering on indecision, struggling between his paradoxical existence which contained all which that is, and emptiness.