BLUEBERRY DARKNESS

Where the light once dance the fortunes seldom whisper 

It would wait at the precipice with the arrogance only cooled by blueberry jam. But from the back of the room all I could see was dulled heads floating in a sea of oblivion. Only accentuated by the instructor who seemed to have a war with buttons. 

It was my assumption the windows would stop whispering and the blubbery bush set ablaze. To pollute the air with an enchanting aroma and reign in the symphonic praise. To the darkened maze. That I escape to hide the sinister plays. To the loop of pointed grays on this deadly pathetic day. 

With each stroke of the chalkboard and each sigh of another comatose student the air would jump that much more as I knew what was to happen. Behind door number was a mundane universe. Where the lesson found its way begrudgingly into our heads. Where each desk was left unadulterated. Where the lights and sound balanced. In this old flailing building. Where the optimism outside was seductive enough to maintain the bit. Arrest contempt. And deliver the message. Untouched. 

But behind door number two was an old acquaintance named reality. Drowned in darkness and masquerading as choice. A slave to timing and obsessed with detail. We’d all find this to be true. For moments ago the sky flashed twice

For moments ago we officially began. A new scope with a similar narrative. A new button with a similar frame. Out there just beyond the fabric they play. For if the entertainment run dry or the subjects look back. They may glitch just fast enough to see it. But here in this room they won’t know. Their bodies still intact to their ignorance they pursuits still burned into their mind. 

But a stones throw behind reality are a select peculiar few. Adjusting the brightness calming the noise. Influencing direction. Recharging the souls. And hoping tomorrow’s episode is that much more interesting.