At various times in my life I have stumbled upon stretches or segments of reality that are incidentally surreal, that somehow seem to exist apart from everything else and carry a quality or otherness that is unapproachable.

The first of these incidents that I can recall (at least for now) took place when I was very young. I was in a school, a small one that I did not attend but instead was watched over at in the afternoons while my parents worked. Myself and the other kids in the daycare were not supposed to leave the designated daycare room, and on most days we did not. One afternoon, however, I slipped out, with a friend, while our caretakers weren’t paying enough attention. We roamed the halls, which were eerie in their emptiness, moving slowly across the school. Eventually, after getting lost a few times, we arrived in front of the gym, its door ajar. Beyond, in contrast with the daylight and the fluorescents, was utter, inky, black. I mean unnaturally black. The open door seemed to lead into nothing, but an overwhelming and almost sickeningly massive amount of nothing. At the time, looking into this space set something deeply unsettling upon my little preschool self. Looking back it seems silly and yet lingeringly haunting.

After looking, we ran into the gymnasium like we were going to run forever, and what that run felt like is something I wish I could articulate.