The blackness seeps into my skin, like black ice melting and freezing again, locking my body in its familiar, chilling embrace. I close my eyes and imagine light. But it is so dark that even my imagination cannot conjure a spark. So I wait.
I listen to the silence. Even my own movement makes no sound. I clap my hands together - feel the sting of contact, feel the wind on my face, but in my ears rings only deafness.
I don't know if my eyes are open or closed. I can't remember. I can't remember how to tell. I put my hands on my face and slowly move them upward until they are on my eyes, but they are too cold to feel anything for sure. I try to open them, manage a sort of twitch flutters and is still again.
Whether my eyes are open or not, I notice something different. The blackness is more grey. It is happening so slowly that I almost didn't catch it. It's not light exactly, more just an absence of blackness. Like the dark is a little more transparent than before.
The dark is fading faster now. The grey is weakening, revealing lighter and lighter shades until it is nearly white. It hurts my eyes, so I cover them with my hands. Even through my hands, the light is blinding, taking on a bluish tone.
I take my hands away. My eyes are open now. This must be the sky that I am staring at. I don't know what I am standing on, but I can't look away from the sky long enough to check. My neck aches from looking up, but I barely notice. It's a rich, brilliant blue. Blue enough to breathe in and drown in. It's heavy with fresh light, and it seems to be coming closer.
Something touches my forehead. I raise my hand to feel it and my fingers come away feeling wet and slippery. A blue liquid, the exact shade of the sky, is smeared on them. I spread it around with my thumb until it evenly coats my first two fingers. They blend in with the sky so well, it's getting hard to see them. I feel another drop on top of my head, hear more of them pat the ground around me. I look down for the first time. Tiny, scattered spots of sky reflect off a seamless grey floor.
More drops are falling now. They coat the floor until I cannot see where it is except for the ripples made by fresh drops. I am afraid to move, to step onto the invisible sky-coloured ground. I notice a blemish on it - a fair distance away: a patch of wispy white. I look up to see it mirrored in the sky. Together the twin clouds grow bigger and darker until they have covered the blue sky as far as I can see with blooming, billowing grey. It's changing colour. The gray clouds turn to green, then yellow, then orange, then red, then purple, then blue again. A darker blue, gathering darkness.
A star appears in the sky, joined by its mirror image on the ground. A few more appear. They twinkle, white and bright, shooting rays of pure light through the shadow. Soon there are too many to count. The night glitters with their quiet song.
Suddenly a line forms between two stars, connecting them, tracing a shape formed by the dots. I can hear a faint cracking sound. The line traces the shape of an animal, forming legs, a head. It forms the last line, connecting the image. Suddenly a much louder crack sounds and the animal is falling. I jump out of the way. The reflection flies up to meet the falling constellation. They meet in the middle and collide with a great crash, sending bits of sparkling darkness everywhere. A few hit me in the face, but my eyes are still open enough to see the entire sky cracking, pieces falling everywhere. The ground beneath me breaks and I'm falling into blackness.