Creative+Writing+-+'The+Flow'

A single ray of sunlight streamed into my room. It shone onto my eyelids. But there was no warmth. Only a light that pierced into my mind. There was no colour in the ray. Only a sickly pale yellow. Pieces of dust floated around in the ray. In the next room, the same ray entered through the window. It shone onto someone’s eyelids at the same moment. The same ray with ta sickly pale yellow colour and no warmth with pieces of dust floating aimlessly within it. At that same moment, that ray of sunlight all sickly pale yellow and without warmth entered the room of every person in this city. It shone onto their eyelids, piercing their minds. The same say at the same moment every day. I sat up in my bed, hearing a screech of protest from the mattress. It echoed around me. The same screech reverberated throughout the city. The blanket chaffed against my skin. There was a red patch. But it did not matter. The tiny dust particles illuminated by the ray of sunlight, floated ever moving and never the same, gave me a pang of annoyance.
 * __ The flow __**

I shuffled along with the flow of people on the road. There was only one flow. Cold wind buffeted the city. Grey buildings lined the sides of the road. Windows of identical size and proportion looked down upon the road, liked glazed and unseeingly eyes. The last of the sun’s rays for this day beamed down upon this city, ever bleak and pale. I could smell the chill in the wind. But there were no other smells. I stared straight forwards, shuffling always in step with the flow. I could not see anyone but the buildings and the roads. Everything was the same. I felt the presence of the people in the flow. They fitted in. Fitted in with everything. I could make out the shifting silhouettes, swaying forever in step with everyone and everything. Like ghostly apparitions they moved, the flow of people, everyday always in the same direction. I moved along. The distance was infinite and unchanging., as if the same windows always gazed unseeingly at me. I looked at my feet; it was the same colour as the cold stone of the road beneath me. I moved, it changed but always like the stone beneath me. I only saw the silhouettes. Their clothes changed always to match the greyness of their surroundings. I continued with the flow. Another day has passed. I woke to the usual ray of sunlight piercing through my mind. I sat up to hear the everyday creak of my mattress. It echoed throughout th entire city. I felt the vague annoyance at the particles of dust ever shifting without the same flow, illuminated by the ray of light. There was not warmth, as usual. Cold wind buffeted the entire, city, the grey monotone building and the road. Everything lay harsh and bleak under the light with no warmth. The cold tendrils of the wind clawed at my cheeks, bitter and almost painful. I should not have felt these icy tendrils. But this sensation did not stop. It sent child up my spine, chills from within. I shuffled with the flow. I focused my eyes on the shifting silhouette of the person in front of me. But I could not see the building through the person. I saw a coast, a solid person. Iy palms felt clammy. But how? Cold sweat beaded down my forehead. Cold sweat? I was sweating? I felt the cold? Chills spread through my body. I shivered. No one else had the same signs. Me? What happened to me? I stopped in the flow. But it continued, passing by me, a shifting mass of apparitions, it should have been. But I saw a dark, churning mass. Terror, foreign and horrifying to me, encased my heart. Confusion clamped my senses and mind. I spun around, away from the dark mass of churning bodies. Against the wall, stood a person. He blended into the wall behind him. But I could make out his ghostly silhouette. The wind whipped around us. He stood there, unmoving. I stood stock still opposite him. Behind me, I could feel the ominous presence of the flow, ever mute and dark. I turned around to look down upon the flow. It continued on, a churning mass. Icy tendrils of wind grasped at them, the no one in the flow felt it. A chuckle sounded behind me. I turned around, seized by a new dread. I could not the person anymore. “So, you have woken.” His voice reverberated around me. Its patronising tone echoed in my ears. I looked back, down upon the masses of bodies in the flow. Pity welled in my breast.