The Weekend Was Long but I Was High
By Aayushi Datta | Photo by Beatrice Levine
Ok, the view isn’t too bad. What? When I say high, I don’t mean under the influence of curated marijuana. I meant I was on top of a roller coaster.
The fresh air blows my luscious hair as the magnetic rays of the sun fall on my soft skin.
My heart palpitates as we ascend downwards. With each added scream, my mind succumbs to a state of peace and silence. SHhHhHhHh
Suddenly, time stops. Lights, I see Lights. Red. Blue. Yellow.
The tree looks weird. Almost as if it has a nose. It looks like…..PINOCHIOOOOOOOO
Ok now I’m laughing. I’m so funny. The person next to me just looked at me weirdly.
She looks familiar. Like really, really familiar. Where have I seen her before? The tree house? The pink palace? The…. OH FUCK! IT’S THE EVIL QUEEN! I’M GONNA DIEEEEEEE
I feel hollow. My head hurts. Eh must be black magic.
Ooooo we’re looping. I love loop the loop. Wait, it’s still going. Again. Again. Again. Ok stop now. No more. I am done.
In a shocking twist of fate, the sky bursts into tears. I feel droplets, but I can’t touch them. My dehydrated skin is craving, waiting for the water to hit me. But it doesn’t. Why?
I stretch my hands out, palms open. The drops hang above me, frozen midair like tiny glass beads that shimmer but never fall. They just… hover.
The Evil Queen’s gone. The tree’s gone. Even the tracks of the roller coaster have vanished. It’s just me and the floating rain, suspended in a world that forgot how to move.
I hear music now. Faint, like it’s underwater. A lullaby? A ringtone? I can’t tell. My chest feels tight, my throat dry. The air tastes like sugar and static.
Someone’s calling my name, I think. It’s soft, almost tender, like a whisper through a dream.
The lights start to fade. Red. Blue. Yellow. One by one, they blink out until only white remains, bright, blinding, endless.
I blink back.
The ride’s over.
Or maybe it never started.
Either way, the view isn’t too bad. Neither is the joint in my hand.