I was growing a farm by the blue pond. I imagined it would be nice, brightly lit and colorful beside the calm pond. Sometimes it rained and the pond overflowed making the soil lush and warm. I thought the seeds I had planted felt comforted, I dint think another way because in my dreams I had seen the farm in its full bloom. Sometimes it rained and I saw the clouds staring down at me, I detected a smile in that wicked lightning. I took that for a yes. The winds blew above my farm, spreading those seeds, spreading those flowers, making the trees swish, making the fruits flop into the ground in a kind comforting jump. I felt pleased. One day my farm would be ready. One day it would be ready as the present of a lifetime. One day of course.
And then came the change of seasons. I heard the nightmare winds, I heard the sudden shift. The wispy winds had been harried off, I could hear it. With those winds, those white clouds had gone as well, the calm clouds that smiled at me. It became dark then, very dark, a mass of darkness hung above, a mass of intense black with no holes, no piercing light, no nothing. Then it began to roar, like the sea had never roared before. I saw my pond, my calm pond of blueness, become murky, become anguished; I saw my pond of childhood writhe in torment and splash upon its creations. The winds and the rain, the clouds and the pond in agony. The smell of wet grass, of insects crawling from the flooded holes, of trees trying to grip the wet grounds. And I flew, silent, falling from one branch to another, from one life to another, wondering was I still alive?
When the first sunlight poured in, I could scarcely see, so blurred was my vision, so foggy was my brain. In the morning, for I thought it might be morning that shone so bright, so scorching on my skin, I knew my answer.
The farm had gone to waste. |
Submission Name: Light Blue Madness
