There's Nothing There, But Nothing Is Really Something
by Andrew Fletcher
There’s nothing there. Kind of a wild claim. I’m not going to give it away here in the introduction. Then you wouldn’t have to read the book. Anyway. It seemed like a reasonable assumption for everyone to make that there was actually something there. I mean, you could see it. The sun. The moon. The planets. Their moons. Other stars. The Milky Way. Eventually, other galaxies. Lots and lots of galaxies. Gazillions. And back here on Earth, all kinds of things. Flowers. Rainbows. Laughing children. Young love. Plus, wars and genocides and tsunamis and lava flow and zits. Reality shows. The Kardashians. There was clearly something there. Turns out, not so much.