"Neither," came the reply, a breeze on the edge of awareness, "it was the silence."
"Our reflections? They never stay too long, lest we become them," I replied with a nod to uncertainty.
"...the dreams never dreamt, perhaps?"
"I found a door. The sign read 'nowhere', written in rivers of light."
"Did you walk through, or was it a descent?"
"Mindless, I floated, unbeknownst to gravity's demands."
"The echoes sing of 'again', but which eyes are they using?"