Free-flow thought. Almost like a waking dream really . . .
Beyond Expectations
Leslie sat expecting something.
The walls flew off the room and she was surrounded by dark clouds thundering, rushing toward and over her head from a pitch black inking into the sky. A bolt of lightning flew inches in front of her face and she gripped the cushion of the chair on which she sat.
Lightning behind her crackling the air as though ever-present invisible molecules were a sheet of foil being crunched together in front of ten-thousand megaphones. Down came lightning lighting the darkness that surrounded the clouds overhead, and then, a ray of light penetrated through it all down to precisely one foot in front of her.
A cylinder of light eight inches in diameter cutting through darkness and past lightning. The color of the ray was blue, the color of sapphire that oscillated in hue from deep and soul-full to the lightness of the sky at noon. The shades changed brightness in five-minute intervals as the lightning continued crackling the sky in ever-bright all-dazzling darkness. A particle descended down the center of the ray of light.
When it had descended to Leslie’s eye level it ceased its descent. As it grew slightly in size it could be discerned to be spinning rapidly. As it continued to grow, it revealed enough detail to be blurry. A tinted blue spinning, growing for several minutes before slowing. The form was a pelican, light-blue in the light of the beam and white outside it where its wings could not be contained, then, flying out from the ray the moment its spinning stopped; it navigated flashes through darkness. Others of its kind began swooping down from clouds to join it as without formation a thousand pelicans swooped passed and around flashes of light tearing through the darkness.
A single fish fell directly into the open mouth of a large bird flying around an imposing flash of light. No bird changed trajectory or rotated so much as an eyeball a fraction of a degree as the slightest food fed but one of the multitudes of like-minded fliers; no competition was had as tasty treat descended to feed just one amongst the many.
Amidst bird and light a flame descended, as though the intention of an invisible candle without wick, down the center of the blue ray of light. The flame fell deep purple by degrees until it showed itself bright red in the shard of light repositioned from out the clear sky of another time and place. Birds and branched electricity and a red flame levitating in a sky-blue cylinder of light danced in her eyes as she sat spell-bound by the burning flicker lighting further the darkness which otherwise would claim itself a natural state.
Just as the transition again began toward purple, the flame leapt outward in all directions, breaking itself into eight, and surrounding Leslie in a ring two yards from her in every direction. In the flash of another bolt of lightning, the flames in the ring again divided outward times eight and continued to divide with every subsequent bolt.
Finally, a wing appeared where the flame had been but a moment before; it did not lower, but fluttered in the middle of the ray before her eyes nonetheless. A hand grew itself from the wing followed by an arm. The hand reached itself toward where Leslie sat; it seemed to be introducing itself to her. The hand was blue until leaving the ray where the wing to which it was attached still fluttered deeply as though made of the color of the jewel. Leslie reached her hand toward the other. For just a moment she felt her own heart beat purple before finding herself in her house surrounded by a warm summer day outside her windows.
She wondered why it was that she no longer sat upon a chair, but found herself cross-legged on the carpet.
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