Roaring flashes of light struck across my face, blue, white, then nothing. Darkness so pure it seemed to reach out to you, the static of its nothingness ringing in my ears. I stayed put waiting for the next boom inbetween the persistent clanging of the flood against the metal roof. I would not move.
The static stopped, broken by distant whispers advancing in a crescendo, certain to whirl my shelter into destruction. Yet they didn't and i moved, still with deafening screams, the sight was no match to its aural shadow. Violet shimmering, soothing sparks seeped through the openings around me, illuminating the alcove i had chosen as a shelter. Falling into place around my shoulders, circling my waist and climbing my bare legs they whizzed me through the walls and the rain and everything around me was dark no more. It was turquoise, indigo and lavender above me, gold and velvet underneath me and I, I was a glowing amethyst. The winding sparks surrounded me no more but the sky cried lilac. It twinkled and stuck to my skin, sizzling everytime they'd touch me.
So then I moved, on my own this time, on the velvet carpet set up for me, smooth against my toes that didn't dare to recoil from its embrace. The semi-transparent droplets fell onto the leaves, plucking of violin strings that rose and fell in pitch, always pizzicato. They felt as pure as the darkness had before. Splashing, no, sprinkinling, behind the auburn trees. It confused me, walking didn't make the source grow nearer. It always sounded like I'd just peek around one of the soppy tree trunks and be welcomed by a stream of the same sparkling rain that I was covered in, but no tuurning of head or clearing of leaves granted me that view.
Closing my eyes I shifted my focus and listened, the sprinkling was beneath me now and, was that freshness around my ankles before? Gazing down the same velvet floor appeared although now the lilac droplets dissipated like paint in water just inches above the ground. I bent towards it, invisible ink whooshed me in, dancing between my fingers no longer amethyst. The lack of tint broke my trance, the rain kept its pace but slid off me instead. The tears were now a sunflower field in summer; yellows and ocres, ambers and greens. They climbed up to the light, same turquoise blue as before.
I was swept up too with the streams, turned upside down. The sprinkling became thudding, then a blurred piercing screech. I was getting faster along with the rain, still as beautiful, again no match to the suffering of my ears. The deafening white noise was such to make me close my eyes and seep into darkness once more.
