Fiction On The Odyssey: The Vessel

For the woman dressed in everest blue with her midnight slacks and buttercup blue boatneck blouse topped with striking sapphire shaded spectacles covering her penetrating glacier eyes, there is a vessel waiting to whisk her away. Under the cloud of blue she wished for nothing but escape. It was simple really, the world of green and red and yellow and orange maybe even purple, called for her indecisive mind to settle on a single color. She was told to sit, to settle, to stay all her life as if she was a pet being trained rather than a young girl. As a child she never really got out of the concrete blue walls, she only had one friend. Her pupils dilated as she saw her.

"This vessel will leave shortly as it is being delayed by heavy red brick rain from Red Roof City." She knew she had to leave, but why was she so thankful for the delay? Was is because of her? The wind blew in the opposite direction, sweeping her dusty auburn hair across her face. The smell of blueberry shampoo and coconut conditioner lingered in her mouth as she tried to rearrange her hair into her immaculate middle part once more. Glacier ice met honey brown as the two women acknowledged each other silently. A mirror image was distorted as one was deep blue and the other a fiery orange. A blaze of heat trailed forward as the lady in burnt orange towered over her. "Why do you can't you just let me leave!" She was so close to shedding her pale blue skin, so close to another world. Only, she was stopping her. The one in orange stayed silent, as if what she was saying could be understood by staring into the depths of her eyes. "Where do you really want to go," she seemed to be asking.

And then she remembered. She wanted more than anything to leave the confines of her own mind. It was a never ending labyrinth, a mobius strip and infinite thoughts haunting her until it was time for her coping method to kick in. Building city inside city she seemed to forget the reality of moments. Blue was where she started, then orange, then purple, all stacked on top of each other until she was lost in color. She forgot her purpose – leaving those concrete walls of the psychiatric ward she seemed to be born in.

Inside the cities of her mind the woman in blue had two versions of herself. She created the orange to distract her from the blue. A version she believed far superior than the other. For a brief second her thoughts gave her reprieve. As she opened the eyes of her inner mind, and looked–the blue blouse and slacks were a reincarnation of the drab periwinkle dress for the ill. As the nurse rushed in, she dropped the shard of glass, convulsing. As per daily routine, exactly 10:27 a.m., the nurse sat the girl back in her rocking chair as she whispered this isn't real.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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