If I go into the garage and close the door behind me it takes a few minutes for my eyes to accommodate. The depth of black is immense. There are no boundaries and the quiet noise shuffles from space to space around me. I can hear the dust settle and a cobweb wave against my breath. Someone turns a light on in the house and its whiteness creeps under the crack below the door. Images begin to appear and the soft sounds are drowned out by the clutter of vision. I am once again among friends. Things of comfort I can rely on. I pass through the door into the light and leave my friends alone in their space.