Drawing a Blank

He peered over the edge and found nothing there but empty space. What he saw there before him was his future, a yawning expanse of nothing but possibility. He stepped back to better take it all in, all that nothing. The openness of it took his breath away and he wanted to fill that nothing with what he knew, to pull from his backpack the past that he had dragged up to this precipice that he saw for the first time, though it had always been there. He had just covered it up with his habits, expectations, and silly stories. He had been walking on air this whole time while believing that the nothing before him was solid ground, fixed and reliable as a slab of cement. Enough of that, already. It was time to create, again and again, the blank pages coming at him endlessly.