Drabble
She dreamed.
She dreamed of sunsets; scarlet fire spreading across the horizon, a conflagration of heat and light. Molten gold in rivulets along dusky shapes, and over silhouetted distances.
She dreamed of strange and disturbing worlds, where people changed colour dependant on their mood, and where you could only ever speak of the emotion you felt in that moment.
She dreamed of flying; tumbling through a great expanse of blue and knowing that she would never fall because she was in total control. Exhilaration and discovery and freedom, all above a patchwork spread open to explore.
And then she woke. She woke to a world that seemed grey, faded, to the vibrancy of her dreams, but occasionally surprised her with a flash of familiar colour. She woke to a world that moved too slowly, too uniformly, compared to the changeable nature of the dreamscape she played in.
She would attempt to dream whilst awake, let her mind wander, and for some part it worked well enough. But the real world would steal in, and she would find her thoughts far from where she would have them go.
The real world stole her time away from her, made her thoughts grey-tinged and regular. She grew up and joined the steps of everyone around her, the pattern that everything followed.
But still she dreamed.
She dreamed of sunsets; scarlet fire spreading across the horizon, a conflagration of heat and light. Molten gold in rivulets along dusky shapes, and over silhouetted distances.
She dreamed of strange and disturbing worlds, where people changed colour dependant on their mood, and where you could only ever speak of the emotion you felt in that moment.
She dreamed of flying; tumbling through a great expanse of blue and knowing that she would never fall because she was in total control. Exhilaration and discovery and freedom, all above a patchwork spread open to explore.
And then she woke. She woke to a world that seemed grey, faded, to the vibrancy of her dreams, but occasionally surprised her with a flash of familiar colour. She woke to a world that moved too slowly, too uniformly, compared to the changeable nature of the dreamscape she played in.
She would attempt to dream whilst awake, let her mind wander, and for some part it worked well enough. But the real world would steal in, and she would find her thoughts far from where she would have them go.
The real world stole her time away from her, made her thoughts grey-tinged and regular. She grew up and joined the steps of everyone around her, the pattern that everything followed.
But still she dreamed.