Short fiction I wrote for myself. Read, respond, react as you like.
I woke up this morning and I couldn't see colors.
My Froot Loops looked like Cheerios. My OJ looked like milk.
My oranges weren't orange. My peaches weren't peach. My grapefruit was grayfruit.
My wife's brown eyes and red lips were just eyes and lips. Her pink shirt and blue jeans were just her shirt and jeans. Our gold and silver wedding bands were just rings.
I turned on the radio and I heard Prince's "Rain," Hendrix' "Haze," the Stones' "Tuesday." I heard the Oyster Cult and the Hot Chili Peppers.
I turned on TV and saw a program about Mars, the Planet.
I went to the opthamologist and he told me, "It's neurological." I went to the neurologist and he told me, "It's psychological." I went to the head-shrinker and he told me, "What was your father like?"
I woke up this morning and I couldn't see colors.
I stirred cream into my coffee like smoke from Bogart's cigarette. I stroked the white, gray and black spots of our calico cat. I opened the front door and saw the gray, white and gray of my neighbor's flag, his gray ribbon on his black SUV.
I got the paper and read the front page. The newsprint was so bright it could blind me.
"Fourteen dead in Iraq. Six dead yesterday. Cpl. Jeffrey A. Boskovitch, 25, of Seven Hills, Ohio; Lance Cpl. Roger D. Castleberry Jr., 26, of Austin, Tex.; Sgt. David J. Coullard, 32, of Glastonbury, Conn.; Lance Cpl. Daniel N. Deyarmin Jr., 22, of Tallmadge, Ohio; Lance Cpl. Brian P. Montgomery, 26, of Willoughby, Ohio; and Sgt. Nathaniel S. Rock, 26, of Toronto, Ohio.
"2,700 Iraqis dead in four months. Half civilian.
"Over 1,800 US dead in Iraq to date."
I woke up this morning and I couldn't see colors.