Black and White: A Short Story (working title)

With a tiny grey finger I traced the oblong curves of my nose, observing 1

shadows as they danced across my skin. Shades upon shades of shifting 2

greys, waltzing in a questionable hue somewhere between the absolute of 3

black and the emptiness of white- vibrating- yes vibrating- with their 4

dull wishes, their sunken secrets.5

My pair of pupils met precise duplicates as they glanced upwards into 6

the glass. Yet no differences could be discovered in the depths of 7

reflection, only the continuous universe of rivals and their children. 8

The dirty, saturated darkness clashing with pure, empty blankness, as it 9

had been since the beginnings of Time.10

My mother beckoned me away from the mirror, communicating as all people 11

did, through gestures…expressions…nods…12

I should go out and play with the other children, just as every child 13

does. 14

Black shadows crept around her feet, her clothing, her hair, her eyes, 15

as splashes of white tinted the edges of her skin with only cloudy in-16

between. Her empty pupils dug into me the deepest, commanding my actions 17

with their fearful lack of brightness. No matter what number of greys 18

existed in this two-tone universe, every eye was cold and dark with the 19

hidden secret of resignation. 20

This way was always so…21

My tiny feet slid into perfectly formed slippers, prim and proper for a 22

young girl; a perfect blend of two absolutes. Without another commanding 23

glance from my mother, I opened the massive barrier between my small 24

space in this world and the many people beyond. Every corner of the 25

outside echoed the in, painted in haunting mixtures of dark and light- 26

and the consummation of their unholy marriage. 27

Silence rode the air, dull and blank and lifeless. Clouds rolled onward, 28

allowing Time to walk right by, carrying an empty bag of gifts for its 29

inhabitants. I reached out with a timid hand, stroking the lead-colored 30

bricks at the meeting of two of my house’s corners. Flat nothing was all 31

that the adventure yielded. I slid my fingers down the wall until they 32

found the ebony fence that met the bricks and hoped- hoped for something.33

But nothing, oh passionless nothing!34

A whirl of colorless activity captured my empty eye and pulled it about. 35

I was confronted with a decent-sized gaggle of other children, of an age 36

with me. They were doing as every child does, carefully speaking in that 37

way without sound, careless of the dull, unreceptive aura that hovered 38

above them all. Such a group of friendly peers, yet it consisted of 39

entirely isolated individuals present only because they needed to do as 40

children do. 41

I became mesmerized by a solitary girl, playing a game with a thin, 42

white rope. With each little jump her colorless pigtails were suspended 43

in the air for just a breath before plummeting downwards once again, 44

only to have the same vicious movements repeated. Each cycle was 45

completed in utter silence; the jumper’s face remained frozen in a 46

constant dance of shadows and grey. She was not jovial, nor excited, nor 47

frustrated, nor sorrowful, only a hollow specter captured in a prison of 48

grey. 49

A collection of other children were playing hopscotch with one another, 50

seemingly in harmony, yet without any acknowledgement of each other. 51

Soundlessly the stone was pushed through stale air, colliding 52

unceremoniously with the cold pavement. A player would hop between ivory 53

lines etched into black ground, not even bothering to watch their own 54

feet as they moved between squares. Not one child missed a square, nor 55

did they stumble. Each innocent moved as steady cogs of a well-oiled 56

machine.57

The entire scene was a carnival of gilded joy, existing only because it 58

was what children did.  59

At regular intervals a vehicle would roll by, not even meriting a quick 60

glance from the children at their play. Soberly the vehicles would move, 61

following an unwavering line draw in invisibility. Each moving box grew 62

its own clusters of leaden shadows, holding them proudly aloft as they 63

passed by. No driver bothered with the presence of either the children 64

or me, for each being was its own individual sphere, and to reach across 65

the barrier was bothersome. 66

I turned away, clutching my forbidden treasure closely against my chest, 67

certain to conceal its existence from Authority. My legs guided me, 68

moving me silently down the colorless sidewalk striped with bands of 69

white. My mind pulsed, sending waves of nervous excitement throughout my 70

veins. Anticipation, oh sweet anticipation rang in me, intensifying with 71

each step, each touch of the item cradled in my arms. 72

The basement was pure ebony darkness save for a cascade of white light, 73

allowing me the luxury of sight. I sat in the illumination, carefully 74

caressing the fruit of my curiosity. The cover was a shade of nearly 75

saturated color, yet the bright title burned itself into the air, 76

leaving echoes of haunted words behind. I traced the letters with my 77

thumb, slowly, carefully setting each little line into my memories. I 78

would know every sentence of this book, each word, each letter! It was 79

to become my battle cry in a land of black and white.80

Anthem, the cover decreed, by Ayn Rand. 81

Without the encumberment of sound I opened the prohibited tome of 82

knowledge. Black pigmentation was set into white pages, tiny pieces of a 83

void leading to another world. Cautiously I placed my forefinger upon 84

the words, drinking them in with every piece of my senses to be certain 85

that they were real- that this was not a passing daydream. I traced each 86

letter with care, absorbing every sentence into the corner of my 87

memories. 88

It is a sin to write this.89

It is a sin to read this.90

It is a sin to think words no others think and to put them down upon a 91

paper no others are to see.92

It is a sin to hide each word in my memory and use them as fuel for my 93

soul.94

It is a sin to have something to fill up the emptiness within; a sin to 95

fall into the dangerous trap of human passions.96

It is a sin to want more, to seek more, to gain a greater amount of 97

knowledge.98

It is a sin to feel; a sin to see beyond dulls greys and the eternally 99

present war between light and dark.100

The list of sins continued to grow in another area of my mind as I read 101

on. ‘Twas a sickening occurrence, this documentation of all things evil- 102

of all things that I desire; I had committed nearly every wicked deed 103

thus far recorded- or at least considered it. My memorization of this 104

novel was to be my grandest defiance of all Time; I relished such a 105

thought. Perhaps I could vary the rhythm; the constant pulse that kept 106

all of humanity within the same step…107

Yet I was only me, a girl of the grey barely beyond the pinnacle of her 108

thirteenth year…and a petty thief of her Father’s books.109

The deed committed, I retraced my path. Every particle of the sidewalk 110

was precisely the same as it had been previously. Each grey shadow 111

remained the same shade, each tiny pocket of occasional black or white 112

was still tucked carefully into its preordained corner. 113

Vehicles rolled by within the same intervals as before. The drivers 114

persisted in emptiness, facing forward and seeing nothing through hollow 115

pupils. The tableau of playing children could have been frozen in time 116

from before. Not one had left nor joined; the game of hopscotch still 117

had neither joviality nor community; the girl’s jumping rope continued 118

to whirl, no mirth on her face. 119

I watched, clutching the bundle of words closely. 120

Yet my observation was broken. A spark timidly crawled upwards, touching 121

my lower sight. It must have climbed up the storm drain, cut into the 122

curb and drenched in ebony. Yet this phantom beauty must have been born 123

of some unexplainable miracle hardly associated with the vast darkness 124

that lurked in the lower world.  125

It was neither black nor white nor grey. 126

It was something else, a powerful apparition birthed from a plane of 127

thought far beyond that of this meager existence, the unknown color of a 128

magical dream world peaking cautiously into a land of constant nothing. 129

No single word could be placed upon such a divine article of 130

individuality that had managed to break the constant tempo of the 131

rational universe.132

The color of other worlds rode on the tiny back of a beetle. Every scale 133

of the insect was dressed in the shifting hues of this mysterious, 134

heavenly glow of passionate serenity! My eyes eased themselves, taking 135

in each bit of the animal and storing it in the forbidden depths of my 136

thoughts. A new emotion welled upwards from nowhere, a response to this 137

vivid little bug as it slowly pattered up the street. Placidity shined 138

through my empty pupils, filling them with a miraculous wonder. 139

I was mesmerized by this curiosity, thoughts pounding at the edges of my 140

brain, demanding to know what title I could place upon such immeasurable 141

splendor. But was such a gift possible? How could this grand vibration 142

of human emotion be given a name? For the force that danced through my 143

veins could hardly be contained by a singular word…144

The pools of questioning wonder within my eye sockets latched onto the 145

beetle. I willed myself to reach out and scoop the bug into my palms- 146

just to certain that it was not a ghost of the mind…147

Then the beat of the grey returned, pulsing as consistently as before. A 148

vehicle soundlessly rolled down the street, flashing its dull 149

nothingness almost triumphantly as it moved closer. My body remained 150

rooted in the same position, still poised to marvel at the glorious 151

glitch set before me. 152

The destroyer continued along, grateful to appease the beat of the 153

world, regardless of what beauty it may crush along the journey. The 154

leaden violence came, soundless and ghostly; the beetle that carried the 155

world’s salvation waited, vibrant with exotic waves of color. 156

Color was crushed; a miracle was broken. 157

The vehicle’s driver had not even bothered to twitch the muscles of his 158

face in response. He rolled onward, being only another working rhythm in 159

the massive machine of grey and black and white. The loathsome beast 160

disappeared down the road, leaving me with destruction.161

A smear of not-quite-grey was all that remained of the sweet treasure 162

that had risen from the depths and attempted to conquer the achromic 163

world with its vivacious brilliance. Spirit oozed out of my pupils and 164

found its death on cold pavement. My face was placed back into the 165

hollow form that it had begun as with only the tiny specter of memory 166

hidden behind empty pupils. 167

That was when I discovered the pig-tailed girl’s eyes with my own. Her 168

jumping rope hung limply from her hands; her empty pupils pierced my 169

near-isolation. She was staring at the novel still seated upon my lap, 170

for it had become visual during my interlude with the beetle. 171

I hastily wrapped my arms back around the tome, whirling about and 172

running. 173

She knew that such things were forbidden to the many, and it was 174

certainly not what children do. Her black pupils followed me, burning 175

through my heart. She was a good little tool, a sweet drone of the black 176

and white; always abiding to the way of things.177

I didn’t have the luxury of hoping that Authority would not discover my 178

betrayal. The little child at her game had happily reported my actions; 179

perhaps even aided in the death of my angelic beetle. 180

I slammed the ebony door behind me, not hearing a sound as it closed. 181

Mother discovered me first, boring into me with her empty pupils. Yet a 182

timid glow rested beneath them, carefully shielded from any who were not 183

familiar with her eyes. She scolded me without words, attention resting 184

upon the novel in my arms.185

Where did you get that?186

It was hidden…187

Do you know what would happen if…188

She ripped the tome away from me, burning seas of wrath erupted from 189

behind her hooded eyes...we shared glances for barely the span of a 190

heartbeat…she turned to scurry out of the room, clutching the book to 191

her bosom; cradling the anthem close to her heart.192

Authority caught up with us. 193

I was in my room when the occurrence took place.194

I watched the empty interactions betwixt my mother, father, and 195

Authority through a thin crack in the door…196

Authority was a darker black than any I had ever witnessed. It was a 197

void of hollow nothing sucking in every pebble of white and warping it 198

into black or grey. Every piece of what the anthem had given me was 199

being tugged at by Authority’s emptiness. The darkness swallowed me, 200

ripping away every warm piece of my soul and replacing it with ice. 201

Authority knew of my presence. It reveled with sinister silence: 202

Others have been broken before; now it is your turn… 203

Fear surged through my bones and I whirled about, breaking eye contact 204

with the thing of death. I sat, frozen. If only the door had the power 205

to keep me concealed…206

All coherent thought broke off and disintegrated, becoming only tiny 207

wisps floating gracefully around my head. I didn’t bother to reach out 208

for any of them.209

It was as if joy itself was staring me directly in the eye. Joy was 210

skeptical, almost scrutinizing…what reason have you to be so sorrowful? 211

Why do you live as you do, in a colorless cage? 212

Its eyes glowed as tiny pools of rest amidst an ocean of busy, vibrating 213

feathers. The little finch groomed its coat of colorful feathers, making 214

certain that no stray drip of grey would dare to stain it. I crawled 215

towards the icon of hope, carving every piece of its appearance into my 216

thoughts right to the beetle. It rested in the grey cradle of a leafless 217

tree. Achromic nothingness pressed upon it from all sides and 218

dimensions, screaming for bright feathers to fade back into the distant 219

land from which it had emerged. 220

I climbed to the windowpane, pressing my nose against the glass, mind 221

lost to the little finch and its gifts. 222

Joy, what are you? You were not born of the palette of this world, for 223

you bear not its mark…224

The bird titled its questioning head, sending sparks outwards from its 225

tiny beak.226

Have you not seem the likes of me before child? 227

Yes. No.228

I am what is called the color Yellow.229

Yellow…it sang in my veins, screaming down into the frozen depths of my 230

heart. How could such a simple name be placed upon something so 231

beautiful? 232

I jammed my fingers into the base of the glass, putting every bit of my 233

strength into breaking through the barrier. The finch observed with 234

questioning contemplation. Could it not see? Could it not see the law 235

that it was violating? Simply by being in existence the finch- the 236

yellow finch screamed disobedience to Authority.237

I reached out a weary finger to touch it; afraid that this other 238

apparition was to have a fate similar to its brother. Yellow was real, I 239

promised my inner heart, yellow was real…240

It flew away. 241

I watched as the finch disappeared into grey skies with a blaze 242

of bright, extraordinary color.243

Yellow it was called…yellow.244

Thankfully Authority had gone by then. I crept from my room, 245

glancing about the empty grey of the world; my parents were not anywhere 246

to be seen. I discovered my father’s collection of forbidden articles, 247

books foremost among them. Puzzlement draped itself over my features, 248

for the novels had not been touched by the void of Authority. I 249

carefully dug the anthem out from its hiding place. It was still here! 250

Once again, tracing the letters upon the cover, I opened the 251

tome, grateful to laugh at how Authority had been deceived…Yet I was the 252

one who had been deceived.253

The page sat in front of me, empty. 254

I flipped through the tome, begging for a ghost- any ghost! - of the 255

words that had once inhabited these pages. But with every turn the 256

search grew more futile. I discovered only pure, white pages edged with 257

bits of dull grey. The book had become a hollow shell. My fingers 258

curled about the edges of the pages, crunching together the pieces of 259

nothing- and ripped. A frenzy erupted in me; I ripped the pages out of 260

their sanctuary, flinging them about the room. It rained ivory paper, 261

swirling like silent galaxies. Defeated.262

Streams of hot water trickled down my cheeks, stinging my flesh. 263

So sudden…why was I leaking? Why was water coming out of my eyes?! Was I 264

dying?! WAS I DYING?! 265

I peeked through falling paper shards, barely sensing the 266

presence of my parents as they dared to see the chaos unfolding in their 267

own living room. Our eyes locked; masks were securely fastened about 268

their souls to keep the passion inside. The pair disappeared once again, 269

leaving me alone with my anguish. 270

I clawed at the other books, frantically going through them page 271

by page. Each page was the same as the last; blank. I ripped them apart, 272

adding their fragments to the storm above. 273

Water poured out of me.274

It was too stubborn to cease. All through the night it cascaded 275

down my cheeks, soaking my pillowcase. Was it possible to run out of 276

water in one’s eyes? For that night every glass of water that I had ever 277

consumed exited my body through the pupils. I recall little from the 278

actual experience, only the sensation of awaking the next morning to 279

discover that the rivers had ceased.280

I tip-toed to the door, placing my fingers onto the handle while 281

taking in a deep breath- would the storm have calmed or would the room 282

still be littered with pieces of empty pages? I flung the door open. The 283

living room stood as it always had: dull, simple, generic- and without 284

any trace of paper. 285

My mother and father glanced up at me from their seats on the 286

far side of the room. No pity or comfort rested within those steely 287

eyelids, only the purpose of every parent in this land of nothing…288

You are a child, children have no reason to be inside on a 289

lovely day, father communicated in simple gestures; always the smallest 290

amount of effort- Run along and play with your friends.291

Perhaps I had been dreaming about destroying father’s books, for 292

he was making no comment of the occurrence now. Maybe I had even dreamt 293

of reading one of his forbidden tomes of knowledge and Authority had not 294

come to my home. It was even possible that this entire world of grey was 295

a dream- one long, highly memorable dream that had happened upon me in 296

my sleep. I knew not what to believe in anymore.297

I went to the outdoors as I had been instructed, grateful to 298

find the other children absent from their perpetual activities. My feet 299

led me to the storm drain where I had witnessed the emergence of the 300

very first miracle. I waited, begging the world below to bless me with 301

another happening. Yet nothing crept out from the ebony hole, leaving me 302

with only the occasional passing of a vehicle for entertainment.303

A thought came to my mind, emerging from somewhere I had never 304

believed to exist previously: where were those vehicles going? Why were 305

they going there? Why did they always following the same beat of the 306

world? I hoisted myself up, and walked. 307

The sidewalk remained forever the same as I moved, never 308

wavering from its leaden grey. The beat remained the same, yet I was no 309

longer a citizen of it. I had abandoned it- or it had spit me out, I 310

could not be certain which. My feet refused to cease, determined to find 311

what the mind was longing for. 312

I could not possibly explain the length of time that I spent 313

walking, simply placing one foot in front of the other and hoping for a 314

change. Every home was precisely the same as the last, every color 315

remained firmly planted within the realm of black, white, and grey- 316

vehicles still continued to drive by, soundlessly moving to the same 317

beat. Would it ever change? Would the universe ever swallow itself up 318

and just change?!319

I was too lost in thought to see the change before I collided 320

with it. A tangle of trees stood at the edge of the world, pointy and 321

foreboding. I walked directly into them without bothering to slow my 322

stride. This was the change, my brain was pulsing, this was change.323

I pushed stray branches aside, reaching- always reaching…324

My palm discovered something…a round, hanging something. I 325

traced the edges of it, being certain that it existed. With a sharp 326

intake of breath I ripped a branch aside…327

Glorious- oh glorious was the discovery!328

The object hung from a tree branch, quietly dangling, awaiting 329

an explorer daring enough to find it. Warmth radiated from its core, 330

beckoning the air about it to tingle with its powerful, intoxicating 331

color. The item was not even a solid plane of singular color, but a 332

tapestry woven with threads of various shades and hues, placing it 333

within its own dimension. I ripped the apple from its domain, hastily 334

pressing it against my chest, begging that Authority had somehow 335

bypassed the sphere. 336

Once each curve had been surveyed I brought the treasure out 337

once more, turning it over and over in my fingers…it beckoned me- oh so 338

gently- to taste its passion, its mystery. My eyes filled themselves 339

with the miraculous fruit, desiring it. I brought the sphere to my lips, 340

not even feeling the brush of my mouth with the apple’s surface…341

A dark arm wrapped about my middle, ripping me out of the tree 342

branches and back to the land of grey. I fumbled the miracle with the 343

tips of my fingers, careful not to drop it as I stashed it in my pocket; 344

hope was all that could keep the vile, black touch of Authority from it…345

My eyes met black voids of eternal nothing, hollow sockets set 346

into an inky black shadow. It knew that I had discovered something- that 347

I had somehow found a way from the darkness and into the light! 348

My child, what are you doing so far from home? Why are you not 349

with the other children, enjoying the day? Are you not lonely by 350

yourself?351

It was an empty, coal-paved road, his form of communication. I 352

was being forced to walk a narrowing pathway towards a distant darkness, 353

each word etched upon the road. I closed my heart, stuffing every bit of 354

my emotions into its farthest depths. Don’t let them be ripped away! 355

They are all that I have- don’t let them be ripped away! 356

I shall return you to your home, for surely you have simply lost 357

your way. Perhaps we need to speak as we walk- I have such little 358

interaction with children.359

I cringed, ripping my eyes away from his sockets. The pathway 360

was swallowing me up…361

We have been watching you young one- we are perplexed by you…Why 362

do you choose, oh so readily, to sin? You must know that it will gain 363

you nothing, it will only complicate matter. Take the knowledge that we 364

have given you and cherish it- but seek not to find more. As the 365

Authority we have made life easier for you by placing all items of 366

complexity into our own hands and taking on the burden of intelligence 367

so that you can live a life in simplicity and joy without such a burden.368

Stop sucking me down- the darkness at journey’s end had become a 369

whirling tornado, pulling me inwards...downwards…370

Come child, what hopes have you to change the way things are? 371

People are pleased with the manner of things now. There is no anger or 372

hatred or hunger or misunderstanding…only peace and community. 373

I dug my nails onto the pathway’s edges, resisting the wind as 374

it ripped at me. 375

Others have tried to do what you do; they always loose and come 376

to agree that Authority is the best manner in which to rule this land. A 377

meek child such as you stands little chance of anything- for no one 378

bothers to take you with any seriousness…379

Don’t let me die! I screamed into the vortex- I want to live! I 380

WANT TO LIVE!381

I am grateful that we had this discussion, the dark arm let go 382

of me, and I tumbled to the pavement, do not pester Authority again 383

child. You have been warned, child- you have been warned.384

There was a wink, and Authority was gone. 385

The vortex disappeared, and I was once again sitting in front of 386

my home, panting. Without bothering to gain my breath I darted through 387

the door…388

Did you have fun playing with your friends?, inquired father’s 389

lazy gestures.390

I stared at him in silence. Thankfully mother’s hurried, 391

wordless communications saved me from having to give an answer.392

Come and sit at the table; it’s time for dinner.393

I sat, staring directly ahead. Without bothering to wait for the 394

others I began the process of shoveling food into my mouth. The grey 395

lumps held no taste, only slid down my throat like dust- the ritual was 396

only for the purpose of eating…397

Cautiously I slid the apple from its hiding place and rested it 398

in my lap. It had been untouched by Authority and still glistened. With 399

every bite of food I grew hungrier as the fruit in my lap taunted me. I 400

rested my free palm on it, carefully absorbing the touch of this 401

heavenly gift. I wanted it, oh how I wanted it!402

The passion of color had seduced me.403

I glanced once more in the direction of my silent parents, 404

blinking a silent farewell. I placed my fork back into the dull universe 405

of nothing and took the apple into my hands. In what would appear as 406

haste to outsiders seemed as carefully defined moments to me. The apple 407

came to my lips once again, caressing them. They parted, allowing the 408

fruit entry just before taking one stolid bite…409

Sweet nectar dripped, accompanied by taste that was fresh and 410

ripe and natural. My taste buds tingled, my heart somersaulted. It was 411

unlike any experience the world of nothing had to offer- something 412

completely new. I caught a tiny peek of my parent’s faces, cracking with 413

horror at what their child had done. But one object pulled me in, 414

captivating me with its new truths… 415

The mirror showed the same shadows that it always had: black, 416

white, grey- yet my face was not entirely within the same palette. My 417

eyes were the color of the tiny beetle that I had seen rising from the 418

depths…blue it was called; blue. Tangles of leaden curls no longer 419

rested upon my shoulder, but had been replaced by the bright shades of 420

the finch outside my window…yellow he had named it; yellow. And finally 421

my lips had taken on the warm color of the spherical item in my fingers…422

red whispered the apple to me; red. 423

I took another massive bite from the apple, savoring its every 424

tangy twist as the juice entangled with my tongue. 425

What- WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! My father flailed his arms…426

For the first time I gave in to the impulse to answer:427

“I’ve finally found it! I found what all of your books were 428

about, the masks on your eyes, the colorless land we dwell in, the 429

reason why Authority exists…” I gasped, slapping a hand across my lips. 430

I had just discovered the manner in which I had expressed myself-431

no gestures or nods as the usual communication was, but I had parted my 432

lips and created a form of sound uniquely my own. The air froze, 433

startled to have suddenly been thrust aside in favor of something else: 434

a sound which belonged to a singular individual. 435

Neither of my parents moved as I sprinted for the door, cradling 436

the apple of liberation in my palms. I ran to the forest from which the 437

fruit had grown, taking bites with every possible moment. With each bite 438

I sensed a change in the universe, in me. I felt the gentle whirl of 439

wind as I parted it, heard the pulsing beat of my heart in my ears. My 440

soul arose and took flight, overflowing with joy. 441

My color warped, eating away the black and white to replace it 442

with tans and pinks and greens. The hollowness dripped out of me, 443

becoming puddles on the cold pavement as I ran. I had come loose from 444

the fabric of this land, had been expelled from its powerful beat- now I 445

was weaving my own tale. 446

Grey bore down upon me, wanting to swallow me up and force me 447

back into its grasp. I ran faster, taking larger bites of the apple. I 448

was free now, and had no interest in going back. I bounded through the 449

branches, tripping over my own faltering feet.450

The ground held me in its grasp, sweetly singing a tune of 451

victory into my ear. A twitter of birds danced across the air, calling 452

me to consciousness once again. I raised my head; my breath froze upon 453

my lips. 454

Tree branches wove themselves over the sky, creating a small, 455

protective clearing about me, lined by trees. Yet everywhere there was 456

color- not just hues of blue and yellow and red, but others of which I 457

could not name. Every drip of nothingness had dissolved, giving every 458

thin tree branch, every blade of grass its own unique pattern. The land 459

burst into beauty, fueled by my newly acquired knowledge. I stood up and 460

dusted myself off, taking in my new utopia of color.461

“Now I am free to have my passion, my emotion...the burden of 462

intelligence will be mine.”463

The End464