There is no substance, just a spot in the darkness that darkens. The darkened area grows but that’s of no consequence. The sound has significance. Just at the edge of hearing, just perceptible, there is a low rumble – just beyond the darkness. In the light a soft high pitch trembles at the approach of the rumble. As the rumble evolves into a boom, boom, boom, the air vibrates in harmony with the dark bass and the treble tone sinks in despair. The high pitch flees in a paper-thin line of white light but the booming bass is in pursuit. With the lowest possible tone the pounding increases its patient pulse overcomes everything heard. A thin tiny child’s monotone whimper lays still, as dead, daring not the slightest movement as the rumbling, booming base occupy’s all other space with black dark emptiness.