Chains on Fire

Sometimes she felt fine.

She could never truly figure out just what it was that was wrong with her. Perhaps there was nothing. Perhaps she was just different. She always did feel as if she were set apart from them all.

There were colours, beautiful, vibrant colours that brought together her world in one beautiful wash. It was all she saw. Felt. Tasted. She knew so well the taste of yellow. It was sweet but unbearably short which left a subtle sour aftertaste. Not many were aware of that. Many were too distracted by the sweetness to realise how fleeting it was. She knew. But there was nothing in her world to have but that.

She would take long walks alone, seeing nothing in the world around her but for its colour. What was a tree but splash of green and brown? Sometimes she wished she could see the lines that everyone else could. Was it something that she could truly choose?

Wish.

The wind, so elusive in its colour of transparency, called out and breathed what she thought was the solution.

Wish.

She shut the world away and uttered three words that she would regret for the rest of her life. She dared to dream. She dared to imagine.

Wish.

It was her greatest regret. The beautiful wash of gold and orange fire that faded into deep ebony was now broken by the condemning lines of an intertwined barrier of chains that formed her cage.


Photo by skynab.