Color of Joy: a Friday Fictioneer Story | The Eclectic Writer Blog


 I knew I was dreaming. How?

One: I was spinning around in small seat with an umbrella over us attached to the center spinning motor by a metal arm.

Two: A sound of what I remember is joy escaped from the other riders as we spun faster. I even caught that sound in my own throat.

And Three: Everything was in color.

I hadn’t seen color like that since I was five. Now all I see is a vast void of black and white that shifts in my blind gaze.

Oh how I miss laughing.

Word count: 95

Check out Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for rules of Friday Fictioneers

10 Thoughts

    1. Yes, when I started the story it was about physical blindness, but as it developed it did turn into a metaphor. I thought about making that apparent, but I decided to leave it up to the reader on the interpretation. Thank you for the feedback!


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