She sees it. The swirl of colours, just above her, strokes of bold, primary tones. It is only a dream, she assures herself. Yet she has never felt anything so real before. The way the gust of wind just brush past her. The blinding explosion of colours. And the sheer confusion of it all.
This is one of those 'real' dreams, she says to herself. It is a dream. It must be.
What else can it be?
The ground shakes and trembles as suddenly a ball of light crashes onto the earth. The trees shiver in terror and the birds leave their nests in fright as more descended from the sky. The surface crumbles into pieces, cracks travelling from one end of the horizon to the other. The sky grew darker as the light fade and descend into destruction.
In horror she retreats under a fallen tree which has been overgrown with mushrooms. Cowering, she starts praying for her life, wishing to herself this is just a nightmare.
Now she waits for the chaos to stop. She waits and she waits, but the longer she does, the more violent the tremors become, and as the sky turns into complete darkness, she cries herself to sleep, the ground still shaking, and the light and the colours no longer there.
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