metamorphosis

I woke up this morning to a world filled with colors I had never seen before. Everything seemed so much more alive and vibrant--like I'd been living in greyscale until this very moment. I'm not sure if I'm saying that right. Is it--sharpness? I was so excited to see everything, I walked through my day in a daze. How can I focus on work when the sky is so blue?

And nothing seemed familiar. It was all so new. Like I'd never seen any of it before and it was there just for me. I couldn't talk to anyone about it, though. This was my little secret, and if they noticed I was being spacey, none of them asked me about it except to say "Are you okay?" and I just nodded. That's what you do.

And they left me alone and I wondered: Was it possible none of them noticed how beautiful everything is? Had I changed or had the world?

Was this real? Ay, there's the rub. This could be entirely in my head. I could have gone mad. I could be completely divorced from reality. Or, what seemed even worse, perceiving it wrong. Maybe the dreary shades of grey I was so used to were the way it really was.

I started doubting everything and hid from the sun, wearing dark glasses and shading my eyes when I had to go out, even at night, keeping my room as bare and white as possible, until there was nothing beautiful left.