The drone of single-engine planes brings me back to a time when the skies were blue with not a single wisp of cloud in sight. As I stared into the empty blue vacuum, I imagined flying higher through the sky until the blue became darker shades of indigo, and finally blackness.
As I lie on my bed, I look up at the ceiling of my room and imagine that I am the world’s only space-man, with each protruding lump on the uneven drywall as a separate galaxy. Shafts of afternoon light stream through, illuminating beams of dust particles floating around, directionless.
In the shower, I turn the lights off and let the water ripple around my feet. I’m usually afraid of turning the lights off in bathrooms, but today, I let the darkness conceal my secrets. I run my pruny fingers against the cool bathroom tile and wonder what it is like to drown.
I’m back to being a child again. The sunlight danced on the waves of the public pool as they rippled back and forth. I let go of the edge of the pool for an instance, and watch as the light blue water becomes darker shades of indigo, and finally, blackness.