One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 17, page 7

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Zhíno Zhudıro was nothing.

Giving his lifeforce to Pí‘oro had been the hugest mistake of his life--or was it the hugest mistake of his death?--and yet, he did not regret it. He had successfully helped the man who had given his own lifeforce to Zhíno. The god Névazhíno had taken Pí‘oro’s life and given it to Zhíno. Zhíno had merely returned it to its rightful owner. What else would one do for a brother animal?

Besides, he wouldn’t have to face the police or Gogzhuè if he never returned to their reality. He would be forever safe in this nothingness of nothingness.

It was excruciatingly boring, however.

After a few agonizing eons, Zhíno heard something. He knew he hadn’t imagined it. Nothing he imagined--neither sounds nor images--had danced before his mind. Just void. Until now.

He concentrated. Was that a voice? Was someone in this void with him?

He lashed about in the void, searching, with no change. No one was there.

But then he heard the voice again. A female voice. Or was it male?

“Hello?” Zhíno called.

Struggling to listen, he could almost discern words. Almost, but not quite.

He kept trying.

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