She woke up in a world where no colors existed.
Everywhere she looks, it was dark.
She has to squint her eyes to see anything.
At times, an object would be blurry that she has to conjure an image of it in her mind.
When there is a need for it, she goes up close to feel the object. She studies it.
She holds it up as if that would make a difference.
She takes her time to make sense of it, sighing at her futile efforts.
Sometimes, she thinks she sees flashes of light. It almost becomes concrete, a solid figure. She blinks, and it would be gone.
She does not know what to make of it, being used to the nothingness that defined the world she lives in.
She walks, day by day to nowhere, trying to find that missing part of her.
Her heart knew them: red, yellow, blue, green.
She may have known these things from a previous life, in a place far from where she is now, having walked away from it. It was so familiar but faded in the distance.
She wants to stop walking most of the time, when all these things she can’t figure out envelop her.
When she sleeps, the colors find their way back. She hears whispers in her dreams, almost grasping memories she wants to remember and forget.
She sees the colors. It starts with fluctuating black and yellow. She gets a glimpse of them… defying red and blue, sating in-betweens, and chiding hue by hue.
She tries to hold on tight before it vanishes, which it does as soon as she opens her eyes.
She could only walk on and faintly say the same words she could barely muster each day, hoping every step would someday take her into the bright place where everything was clear.
“This. This is the absence and presence of it all.”
A Beautiful Short Story written by Liz C.
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