From "Sin" by Shaun Allan

She walked forwards, slowly, a few steps then motioned for me to follow.  I did so and stepped to her side.  Her close proximity seemed to bolster my flailing courage (although that implies that courage had existed in the first place), but only to the extent that I didn't run away screaming.  She held my hand and squeezed tight, and the light around us went out.

Did I scream?  Squeal?  Like a kicked piglet?  Or was it only in my head?

All I could feel was Joy's hand in mine.  The world had been snuffed out, a candle on a birthday cake blown out by the birthday girl.

Make a wish.

I couldn't feel the air - no breeze nor breath brushed my face.  I couldn't actually feel my face.  The ground beneath my feel had vanished and I felt as if I was standing, but not floating, on nothing.  Terra Firma had become Terror Firmless.  Was this sense depravation at its most extreme?  People paid money to float in tanks of water, lying in an insulated cocoon to become one with their innermost being.  Or some such nonsense.  Maybe it works, or maybe you just go crazy from the complete lack of stimuli.