...A whirlpool.
Yes, that's it. Mirroring inside.
The corners of the paper are light. Pastel yellows and pinks and purples.
Then they circle inward, sloping down an imaginary spiral staircase. The yellows turning swampy and the pinks turning to the color of drying blood. The purple receding into the color of a bruise.
Then it gets angrier as the colors flow downward. The red turns dark yet loud and fierce. The blue changes into stormy waves and electricity. Purple threads it's way through the mess like pulsing veins.
Finally at the base of the whirlpool, where everything is swallowed up, is subdued and dark. The depressing blue swallows everything and turns black, with grey swimming in its wake.
Then everything disappears, because you jolt yourself out of your brain and try to focus on the conversation, the book, the movie.
Whatever it was that caused you to stop and think.
