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Description
Blue.
More than blue.
Beyond blue.
It’s hypnotic, all-consuming. It draws me in, further and further. I reach out, expecting the delicate orb to be punctured by my fingers, to pop.
It doesn’t.
My arm is pulled in. I slip effortlessly into the blue. It’s warm, despite its icy shade. Like water. There is no current, but it swirls around me, barely grazing my skin. Hair billows around me like a cloud. It explodes into drops of silver rain. No, a school of silver fish, slicing through the water like knives.
Warning signals go off in my lungs. I need air.
Swim up, up, up. It seems to never end. I’m trapped, drowning, surrounded by the tranquil blue.
Stay. It’s wonderful. Stay.
No.
Air. I need it.
Up, up, as quickly as possible. Fingers reaching, searching, desperately clawing at the surface. I can’t get through.
Open. Let me out. I need to breathe.
My fingers slide through it as though it were jello. A blast of icy air. It freezes my hair, frosts my lashes.
Thick, cold air rushes into my lungs, filling them to bursting, then leaving them empty once more.
In. Out. In. Out.
It’s not that cold. It’s all in your head. Not that cold…
In. Out. In. Out…
Get out. Get out of the water, out of the blue.
I am in an underwater cave. It should be dark. It isn’t. The icy walls reflect a strange light—silver blue.
To my left is a rocky shore littered with---I squint---tangled masses of hair, hearts shattered like glass, deep depressions in the walls, like scars; scattered remains. I shudder.
No, not there. Turn right.
The same.
Fool. Look forward, always forward.
A platform jutting out of the wall a good yard above the water.
I climb out the water—now solid, but not ice—and walk across it. It starts to give way.
Faster, faster. Jump. Grab the edge of the platform.
It’s slippery and so cold that it burns. My skin peels away. It’s like touching dry ice.
I bite back a scream and pull myself up.
It’s hard. My body weighs a ton. It would be so easy to let go, to give up and fall back into that tranquil blue that is beyond blue.
No. I want to see, to know.
I’m on the platform. A tunnel, unbearably bright, is before me. An invisible barrier pushes against me.
“No,” it seems to say, “Get out. I don’t want you here. You can’t see, can’t know. It’s mine.”
But I want to see. I want to know. I lunge at the barrier, prepared to break it even if it breaks me.
And suddenly I’m through, never having contacted it. The barrier was naught but a bluff.
I continue into the unbearable brightness---too stunned to shield my eyes.
At the end of the tunnel is a round room, and in the center is---

The cave vanishes. Reality has returned, taken over. It’s the middle of class and, once more, I have been caught unawares.
The moment is gone, possibly forever. Briefly I long for it to return, but then I realize that I am not meant to see.
That sight is for no eyes—only a heart, and that heart is not mine.
I only wish I could see what’s in my own eyes.

Description
Blue.
More than blue.
Beyond blue.
It’s hypnotic, all-consuming. It draws me in, further and further. I reach out, expecting the delicate orb to be punctured by my fingers, to pop.
It doesn’t.
My arm is pulled in. I slip effortlessly into the blue. It’s warm, despite its icy shade. Like water. There is no current, but it swirls around me, barely grazing my skin. Hair billows around me like a cloud. It explodes into drops of silver rain. No, a school of silver fish, slicing through the water like knives.
Warning signals go off in my lungs. I need air.
Swim up, up, up. It seems to never end. I’m trapped, drowning, surrounded by the tranquil blue.
Stay. It’s wonderful. Stay.
No.
Air. I need it.
Up, up, as quickly as possible. Fingers reaching, searching, desperately clawing at the surface. I can’t get through.
Open. Let me out. I need to breathe.
My fingers slide through it as though it were jello. A blast of icy air. It freezes my hair, frosts my lashes.
Thick, cold air rushes into my lungs, filling them to bursting, then leaving them empty once more.
In. Out. In. Out.
It’s not that cold. It’s all in your head. Not that cold…
In. Out. In. Out…
Get out. Get out of the water, out of the blue.
I am in an underwater cave. It should be dark. It isn’t. The icy walls reflect a strange light—silver blue.
To my left is a rocky shore littered with---I squint---tangled masses of hair, hearts shattered like glass, deep depressions in the walls, like scars; scattered remains. I shudder.
No, not there. Turn right.
The same.
Fool. Look forward, always forward.
A platform jutting out of the wall a good yard above the water.
I climb out the water—now solid, but not ice—and walk across it. It starts to give way.
Faster, faster. Jump. Grab the edge of the platform.
It’s slippery and so cold that it burns. My skin peels away. It’s like touching dry ice.
I bite back a scream and pull myself up.
It’s hard. My body weighs a ton. It would be so easy to let go, to give up and fall back into that tranquil blue that is beyond blue.
No. I want to see, to know.
I’m on the platform. A tunnel, unbearably bright, is before me. An invisible barrier pushes against me.
“No,” it seems to say, “Get out. I don’t want you here. You can’t see, can’t know. It’s mine.”
But I want to see. I want to know. I lunge at the barrier, prepared to break it even if it breaks me.
And suddenly I’m through, never having contacted it. The barrier was naught but a bluff.
I continue into the unbearable brightness---too stunned to shield my eyes.
At the end of the tunnel is a round room, and in the center is---

The cave vanishes. Reality has returned, taken over. It’s the middle of class and, once more, I have been caught unawares.
The moment is gone, possibly forever. Briefly I long for it to return, but then I realize that I am not meant to see.
That sight is for no eyes—only a heart, and that heart is not mine.
I only wish I could see what’s in my own eyes.