07 December 2003


The subtle scent of coffee whaffed in the air as he entered the room.

It was one of those gentle December mornings where the bed's toasty warm and floor's ice cold. It was so peaceful that he could actually hear the morning come. He closed his eyes and savored it. All senses attuned to the beauty of that moment.

Then like a throbbing pain, a thought registered in his head; Work. Work. Work. Work. It jarred his mind to reality.

Shower. Change. Breakfast. Day in and day out, everything was routine. Except this morning, he can't shake that feeling. A feeling only described as being between a state of deja vous and a lucid dream. Everything seemed distant.

The color blue. Everything had a tinge of it. From the sunlight slowly peeking in, to the walls, even the shadows. Blue.

He slowly approached the door. For a moment, he hesitated. He looked back to his small apartment. Glancing at it for one more time, he began to realize that for one brief moment, a state of perfection was presented to him. Not quite consciously, he murmured, "Blue".

Then he opened the door and the heat of reality welcomed him.