#177 The Shards of Glass on the Road

by Maria Raven

Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet—how many colours there are! I feel immortal flying high in the sky, through skittish rainbow and farther, to alluring stars. My soul is filled with ineffable emotions. Rainbow’s light tickling charges me with carefree laughter. I am free! Eternity is flying by in the ocean of bright pictures of the past and present.

But the vision is gone. Again. It is leaving, running away, tearing me apart. I am trying to catch it with whispers, prayers and begging. But the rainbow is gone. All that is left is the faceless window into the dismal world. Shadows of grey. Darkness. Somebody is weeping. No, not me. I am shaking.

One would think, what is so terrible about “Hey, man. You’re in?” and petty “Deal”. Nothing and everything. What if you made the deadliest deal in your life to never get a refund?

“Baby, we won’t leave you” and “We’ll come through this, son. Together”, the words meaning infinity and void. Mom and dad. Instantly, everything takes on a different meaning, a pity that too late.

One step, another. My life. Cold concrete under my feet. The wind. The closeness of the sky. Freedom. Underneath—tiny humans, cars—vanity. Somewhere behind—words lying on the paper. Another deal—ahead.

Siren is wailing, somebody’s crying from afar. Not me. I don’t care. I am seeing rainbow—red, yellow, red, blue, red—in a broken mirror, the broken mirror of my life.

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