It was neither hot nor cold, light nor dark, being nor un-being, it simply was. Existing in a timeless void, the thing that may or may not have been Alexander waited. He had waited for minutes or days or decades or seconds, trapped in the middle of all things. Only the song would free him.
My name is Martha Bechtel and I write fantasy and science fiction stories, paint small model horses silly colors, cast resin and plaster magnets, code random code (and Wordpress plugins)... Come on in and join in the fun!