October 26, 2008
By Christopher Kennedy, Tucson, AZ

I am reclusive. I dream, I imagine, I find creative solace. My dreams give my mind free reign. One in particular hit me with special force.

It was another sleep deprived night in the midst of my pre-final academic toils. Moonlight warily peered through my bedroom window. My breath resounded crisply in the profound silence. The room was faintly illuminated by the red light of my clock. It flashed every second, overpowering the silver moon and casting the room in hellish stupor. I wearily retired into the comforts of my pillow.

She appeared from afar, if one can measure distance in dreams. We were in a small box; its walls shined bright green from the sourceless light that emanated from the edges. Her lips sparkled of countless microscopic rubies, eyes metallic chrome with a neon glow. Her hips curved geometrically and her coconut skin was forcibly carved in curvilinear forms accurate to a pin’s head. Sound transmitted from her golden mouth in white crystallized waves of microscopic ones and zeros that strayed in pristine, amorphous forms. Her rock candy fingernails enticed with their fruity smell. Wind suspended her polished black hair midair as it moved in slow motion around her head. Sharp shards of glass floated aimlessly, the shrapnel carelessly bouncing around her bare legs and occasionally sounding a dull metal thud. She blissfully glided in wide circles, leaving fine red mist in her wake.

“Do not panic.” Her voice came from all directions. “Colors are only misshapen light.” Her eyes slowed opened, revealing a thousand tiny prisms that shone in every color imaginable. My heart raced as the light bombarded my unsuspecting pupils. The walls flashed in a maddening flurry like a kaleidoscope in fast forward. The suspended glass diffracted the light, casting it in all directions. The room began to vibrate. On her lips grew a slow smile that created semi-spherical dimples on each smooth cheek. A whirlwind seemed to break the room by its hinges. The roof tore off, and in a flash of green light, truth descended like lighting. I slowly faded back to reality…

My imagination has many colors. This dream helped me realize the vitality of each shade. Before, I was living in black and white, watching enviously as people glowed vibrant greens and blues and reds and yellows, unable to show my true colors. Now, I can finally meld my subjective tint with the world around me. I am outgoing.

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