A Blog Awakes

She doesn't roll over, because she slept flat on her back, horizontal solidity seeming to unnaturally straighten her spine until it feels surrealy extended, beautifully perfect. She spreads out her arms to her sides, her pale white flesh scraping past the slightly cool surface. Stretching out her palms and fingers she feels the air about her. It's fresh, but painfully bright, and it occurs to her that it might be less painful to look than to feel. Her eyes flicker open, lashes slightly jammed and seemingly directly connected to her now parted lips, slightly chapped and floating purple above her delicately pointed chin.

The black peels away to leave more black, and the colour etches in as gradually as could be wished for. There's a deep darkness tinted green off somewhere to her left, maybe also to her right but still waiting to emerge from the earthy brown. It all skirts on the edge of her vision, like some delicate trimmming to the muslin expanse of disc that the night sky forms. So many bright lights, so many tiny lost ones, some so invisible they seem to be missing when looked for a second time. Far off, miniscule dots, cascading through existence.

LaceOverSand blinks, resplendent in the lethargy of her features. She flickers away the sleep, and wonders what the fuck happened to the ceiling.