There is a word for the space between moments. It’s a term for the quiet that echoes after each heartbeat, for the emptiness that exists betwixt things, though its name is one that’s been forgotten. The nothingness is much like the gap while one sleeps—when time catches on your last breath of consciousness and releases on your first moment awake. This spell might be minutes or hours or months that stretch into years, everything blurring together as if nothing has happened at all. The word is for the time that passes when no time is passing at all, and yet everything changes.
