Fields of Yellow

The day starts out like normal, I wake up, brush my teeth and get ready for the day. I open the window as the city cars honk and swerve. Suddenly, the sun beaming its golden rays ceases. The clouds darken and cover the illuminating light. Change of plans…

Texting my friend, canceling our plans, I decide to do something for myself. I open my laptop and stare blankly at the intimating blank page. My mind fills the page with words that don’t make sense. Trying to find my place in the world. Creating worlds isn’t necessarily difficult for me, it’s draining. Perfecting everything, making sure that every paragraph is perfect.

Every world is different, every project has a different meaning. No one understands. Connecting to people has always been difficult for me. I’ve often dreamt of having people close to me who I’m able to connect with on a deeper level. I don’t feel human, so it’s difficult for me to relate to people.

The darkened skies continue to storm, and unleash its unrelenting fury. My world collapses and I get pulled into a different realm. Unsure if it’s a dream or not, I follow the stream of consciousness. I can’t seem to place how I arrived here. This world is different, the skies are blackened but there are fields of yellow, the yellow wheat brushes against my skin.

Every-step I take is heavy yet I keep moving. When I reach the middle of the field, the skies open and begin to beam the sun’s warmth down. My steps get lighter, and the wheat feels gentler against my skin.

Did I die? Is this Purgatory?

I decide to continue as I see an abandoned building in the distance. Once I arrive, the skies darken once more and rain begins to pour from above.

I hear three thunder-like strikes in the field. I open one of the shutters to peek at the closeness of the sky’s fury, only to discover it has unleashed living beings.

There are three… entities… one is holding a staff, the other a whip, and the last remaining appears to be unarmed. Their language is difficult, I can’t make-out what they’re saying but the one holding the staff appears to be in charge and upset.

Their body language is the same as ours, and the one wielding a whip attacks the air, until it reveals three winged creatures protecting their unarmed master.

Upon the attack, the unarmed deity equips his scepter. The deity with the whip wraps her weapon around the scepter, and the one with the staff keeps his winged minions at bay.

Hades true form reveals itself; the darkened deity emits his darkened shroud and summons more minions.

I realize this is the gateway between Earth and Olympus. If breached, we would be swarmed with creatures that we are unequip to defeat.

Unsure of what to do, I begin to pray to the one Olympian that I have always had a vested interest in.

Suddenly, the skies open further releasing one final Olympian who uses the last drops of the rain, to form three spherical large water droplets surrounding him and his spear.

Poseidon has always been the most fascinating to me and I can’t help but grin when I discover that she is a woman.

The deity with the whip; I assume Athena is flanked and the winged Harpy grasps her shoulders and flies off. The world begins to shake and I realize if I don’t return to my body, I could be stuck forever.

I book it to the field, using an inhuman amount of speed, I realize the longer I’m stuck in this middle realm, the less human I become.

Hades spots me and sends his winged minions after me Poseidon hurls her sphered creation at the Harpy encasing it in a bubble, leaving time for me to slip between the realm.

Upon my return, I jolt into my body, I feel the weight of the old-world weight heavy on me.

I return to my laptop blank as can be, the fields of yellow fresh in my mind. About to create my own world, with the events that just unfolded, I find myself unable to recall what happened.

I return to my bed and fall fast asleep, hoping that I can return to that mystical realm.