Synethesia

A Story by Shaun Fisher

A colorful short short story

Walking down a long straight street, seemingly alone with only the shadows of people rushing past him in a blur of sound and activity, the man concentrates on each of his footsteps and begins to perceive loud bursts of light exploding with every meeting of his sole and the pavement. He looks around astonished, wondering if his eyes or mind are receiving or projecting these images, but he sees nothing, his vision seems to have completely left him and has allowed a thick, blank black canvas of nothingness to surround him. Still he hears the clicking of each footstep, he knows he must be walking but where to in this mass of darkness. Bursts of color and light continue to resound with each step drenching the black landscape in fluorescent clouds of blues, purples, pinks, yellows and oranges that drift silently into infinity. Anxiety strangles the mans lungs and heart and he stops in panic, the clicking stops and darkness envelopes him. Blind, scared and alone he sits and waits. The man has been here before, he recognizes the ubiquitous darkness, he knows what is happening, it is a Synethesia attack, but how to stop it. His memory grants a solution and he chants ‘Breath and run’ ‘Breath and run’ enigmatically to the void. Inhaling deeply through his nose the darkness rushes towards him and fills his lungs, with infinite capacity he greedily breathes in every inch of this world. The colors sudddenly fly back over the horizon as if whirring back through time and fill the emptiness. The absence of darkness and return of color nurture the man into relaxation. ‘Color is key’ he thinks as he resumes walking. Tip, tap, tip, tap his thunderous shoes fire explosions with his increase in pace. He begins to run and with this a kaleidoscope of earthly colors stimulate every cell in his eyes and he trembles with fear and pleasure as his whole world shifts, distorts and convolutes around him in a myriad of visual beauty. Tip tap, tip tap, tip tap. He breathes heavily as he runs into the abyss; his shoes now glow and pulsate with energy as a constant stream of flourishing perfection flows free and unchallenged into the whirlpool of color sending the man into a sensual oblivion. The indistinguishable colors now combine and create, forming a border in his vision, clouds of blue of every spectrum crash into each other with patches of white to create the sky. Tip tap tip tap tip tap, he runs and runs. Greys, browns and blacks slowly distort into the pavement below him, deep greens and rusty browns create a chair and shades of black form into a highway which now permits cars of every color to rush over it. With reality returning the man relaxes and slows his pace as the last of his worlds abnormities come into mundane fruition.