The world turned to charcoal.
It began in the sky.
Little clouds started to form in the earth's atmosphere.
And then the rain fell.
Initially it was ordinary rain, but then bitter, murky drops tumbled from above.
Images commenced in the puddles that the black clouds produced.
Images that played from the moment your newborn eyes could see.
And as if the black clouds were not odd enough, little cracks started to form over these images.
The little cracks began to expand until finally pieces began to crumble and the once apparent image had nothing left to display.
Everything was lost.
All that was left was the memories you kept and even then, it seemed as if those were beginning to vanish as well.
The world turned to smoke.
Wisps of your loved ones danced with the wind in a beautiful assortment of patterns.
As they waved goodbye, you chased after them in hopes to keep up.
Your fear of being left alone overcoming your senses.
The world began to spin.
Smiling faces, laughing sounds, wedding bells and happy times.
They all swirled together creating a haunting yet beautiful harmony.
The world had color.
Your eyes began to focus.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror as you stare at your reflection.
Your grimy appearance says hello.
The sunken cheeks and the ratty clothes.
The smell of vomit that enters your nose.
Still the bottle in your hand welcomes your return and urges you to take some more.
Yet the delusion is fresh in your sight.
The image of your child's birthday party coming to mind.
You toss the bottle and shred your clothes.
In hopes it's not too late to return .
In hope the world would not return to Charcoal.
