Midnight Lavender Fields

Cynthia Flabergast woke up with her mouth dryer than she had ever imagined. The fan, no both fans, were left on last night. The sun-kissed her cheeks with morning vitality, she wished it hadn't. In her mind, the thoughts raced back and forth like cars in traffic. Meanwhile, she could barely finish her tasks. Sit up. Stand up. Walk. Bathroom. Clothes. With every new sensation, a new line of thoughts ran through her head, slowing her even more. Her stomach grumbled. Her face still numb with sleep. Her toes stung from increased blood flow.

Cynthia could feel the phlegm from last night that had settled in her throat. It left a weirdly heavy feeling in her body. It was probably going to stay there until she entered her car. That was usually when she'd wake up to the next stage of alertness. They say humans are creatures of habit, and so maybe just maybe Cynthia loosened her grip on her morning when she knew her first hurdle was over and done with.

Unbeknownst to Cynthia, the air around her shifted. It circled her feet, brushing her calves, pulling at her pant leg. What did it want? Cynthia opened the door leading to the hallway. One of her fleeting thoughts was to make breakfast, cereal. That would take too long, just make a snack bag. How loud and cumbersome when your hands will be full no matter what. Cynthia ignored her thoughts and kept at her slow-moving procedure.

It was time, fifteen minutes have passed and with just enough decency Cynthia felt good enough to leave the house. Her thoughts circled her brain like race horses. Thoughts one after the other. Blurring the line between her subjects, Cynthia looked like she was just standing there looking down at her clothes. She had to make sure she didn't forget something, coming back inside was too much of a hassle. Keys. Shoes. Purse. Wallet. Uniform. Badge. Keys. Food. Water. Purse. Badge. Keys. Repeating with importance, Cynthia double-checked all of her items, either visually confirming or physically confirming them. Only then would she cross it off of her mental list.

The door opens not to the usual front porch of her home. There was a significant lack of trees, bushes, and flowers, even the grass was missing.

In the open door frame, stood a vast openness of dark purples and blues. The bright sunshine of the dawn was nowhere to be found. All that was left was not much more than a plane of solid ground. Even the warm morning air was replaced with the chills of lifeless stagnation. The blue, pink, orange sky switched places with a deep dark purple. It became deeper and darker as it approached the horizon in the distance. Clouds made of the same velveted shades scattered the new sky, camouflaged in its obscured shadows.

The ground looked not like stone, or grass, or dirt, but possibly a velveted carpet meant for the finest of cobbled shoes. Cynthia hesitated. This was not her idea of a normal morning. The sunlight that Cynthia knew all too well still peaked its golden rays through the curtains. The strength and power it held never felt so foreign after staring into this abyss. One step. That's all you need.

Then, with those words running around Cynthia's head, she took a step forward. Every fleeting thought was a thing of the past and every new passing inquiry revolves around this. Her foot lay flat, secure, and stable on the velveted plane of existence. There was no wind, but you could feel the shift in temperature. With Cynthia's skin turning into glue under the blue-smothering environment, it's as if life as she knew it was going to change.