A brief scene for a story I’m working on. Sometimes they come out of order, but as I see them, sometimes they just demand to be written. This was one such scene.
Luminescent fibers fire between void and darkness.
Pulsing, arcing, racing, searing, and spasming. Each in rhythm to some unknown orchestra – a storm of constant action. Each thread dancing about the skewed vision of these eyes. The vibrant sea of hues and shades stupefy as I realize: the knitting of this living web enshrines me. Each shining, glowing, streaking strand permeates me. Delves within the recesses of thought. Seeks and buries itself into my very essence. Each incorporating itself into my being. Burrowing into my actions. Voluntary. Involuntary. Each movement, each breath, and each beat pervaded by this living web.
I can feel its energy. I can feel it as it lends its song to me. An aria. No…greater still -an opera. As the movements filter through me…I tremble at the wonder. Collapsing on the ground while this surreal aura swells about me. Trying to retain myself as I long to drift away into the lullaby. Dimly aware of myself now, I struggle to remain. Reveling in the cascade of scents and flavours. Basking in the glory of each sight and sound. The storm of feeling raises me beyond my consciousness.
I become aware of myself again. Who am I? What am I? Why am I?…these questions, which were once vague, lose all depth they once contained. Whatever I once knew has been replaced by a new essence. I know not what I am. I know now who I am. How? Why? Any conception of self I once had is gone from me. A dream, bland and dull amidst the vivid essence I find myself a part of. The brilliant fibers converge upon me, each bond tightening. I discover myself linked to the world around me. As the magnificent ocean of sound surrounds me…I realize … I am its conductor. Each thread pulls at the fibers of my being.
In an ataxic fit, any sense of perception, time, or control is lost. The fibers tear at my mind as my body spasms amidst the dancing web. An eternity passes. A void of darkness yet a blaze of light. I find myself heaped upon the ground, still quivering uncontrollably. Finally I return to myself. Picking myself up…I struggle momentarily with the vision before me. The web now lives as a part of me, encompassing all I encounter. Yet still I view the world as it once was, unable to see the strands about me, yet feeling each filament and its bond to the world.
Strewn about me is the wreckage of a violent storm. All manner of junk tumbled about. Windows shattered. Paneling splintered. Upholstery shredded. Shrapnel from the remnants of my possessions coats the room. Miraculously, I stand unscathed.