The first thing you notice is the darkness.
No orange streetlights, no reassuring yellow glow from behind closed curtains, and no silvery moonlight, either. No light.
Everything is different shades of one colour – midnight black. The world has been sewn from shadows and smoke, nothing substantial. No colour, no light. Nothing feels real.
The second thing you notice is the silence.
There is nobody awake. No cars driving through the streets. No footsteps. No-one speaks, no-one is awake. The only sounds are quiet ones; the mournful cry of owls, the wind flipping leaves over and over, the rustle of dry grass in the fields.
You walk down the middle of the street. Why not? There’s nobody to tell you not to. There are no cars to run you over.
Your footsteps echo loudly off the dark, silent houses. The sound seems unwelcome, alien, interfering. So you take off your shoes, leave them in the road, keep walking.
In every house you pass is a sleeping family. There are parents, children, grannies, brothers, aunts… all asleep. What do they dream of? What are they thinking?
You could break into their houses and steal their possessions if you wanted to. Everyone is asleep. You are awake. Therefore you are God. The world belongs to nobody else but you. Why not? The dark, silent world is yours.