Category Archives: 2013-07-29 to 2013-08-11 – Red, White, and Blue
I open my eyes and it feels different. It feels dreamy. When I try and concentrate, I realise that I don’t remember how it felt before. But I think it was sharper. I think it feels softer now. More relaxed. Slower.
I try to stand up, but I can’t.
I try to move my legs, but I can’t.
I look down at my hands, crossed on my lap, and see a tiny dial. Like a timer on an old rehydrator. The arrow points to red. Red what? It has two more notches: green and blue. Green and blue what? I turn the dial one notch to green.
I try to scream, but I can’t.
I taste metal. I feel suddenly cold. I can see the edges of the room now, but I wish I couldn’t. The walls glitch and distort. I feel like I’m going to vomit. I look down at my wrist to turn the dial, but it’s gone. It was right there.
I look up at the ceiling, hoping for a calmer sight than the walls, but it’s worse. It’s cracked and melted and shattered, and it oozes slowly towards me. I turn my head away and see the dial. My other hand. How did it move? I crank the dial to blue.
I feel at peace.
Everything starts to desaturate, to darken.
But I feel at peace, and I welcome it.
Colour to grey to black.
Speeding through the pretty landscape in the fastest train in europe: a good way to spend a sunny afternoon. My mind quietly drifts to the smooth thrum of the wheels; at 400km/h the french countryside is a pleasant green blur through the window of the TGV. My eyelids begin to droop.
Something is being dragged over me and suddenly I’m very cold. I can’t see or move at all but I’m not afraid. I feel calm, objective. The voices seem tense, business like, strained – after a long time I realise that I can’t understand them.
“Etat bleu,etat bleu, etat bleu…”, a clear woman’s voice from nearby, tired almost bored sounding.
“Etat rouge, il respire , médecin! Etat rouge! Ici!”, much closer now.
Then I hear frantic activity, a hubbub of foreign voices: all calm, all urgent, all doing something. They sound really stressed, I wonder what could be so important. But whatever their business it is over soon enough and they rush off. It’s quiet again but still so cold.
“Etat bleu, etat bleu…”, that same woman again very close now – near my feet. A weight is rolled off my right arm. She is so close I can hear her breathing now.
“Dieu ait pitié”, she whispers. And then, louder, “Etat bleu”.
Something warm touches me, pulls against my shoulder, almost lifts me. It hurts. I think I scream and that damn woman starts getting all excited again.