What would you miss if you...?

Think of the things you would miss the most if you were blind.

 - For me, it would be raindrops on my window. And a smile on people's faces. Also, Id' miss the autumn leaves. And the spring flowers.

And if you were deaf?

 - Music. The sweet sound of one note sliding into the other. And... the sound of someone saying they miss me. And only for a second, I'd miss hearing the wind in the trees.

If you couldn't speak, what would you miss saying?

 - "Sorry". And I'd miss the choice to say "I love you", and "I wish things were different". 

If you could not smell?

 - My dad's chocolate bread when it's just taken out of the oven. And the morning after a rainy night. And orange. I'd miss the smell of orange...

If you could not touch? What would you miss?

 - I'd miss... touching my hair. And silk. And I'd miss the tree bark. The way it lives under my touch.

And if you died this very instant, what would you wish you've lived?

 - I'd wish I had the chance to say my last words to the world. And I'd want to see one person. ...Or two. And I would wish I was more brave. That I had lived without the fear that stopped me from doing things I want my whole life. Yeah... And I would have loved to see the world, not being afraid of how people see me. 

 How do you feel now?

 - Sad. Because I still don't have the courage to do what I want. But I feel I'm a bit closer. I think I'll get there.

Enjoy life.

Cicmila

The Second Chance

I was a sad person. Most of all, I wanted to die.
I remember going on the bus. I sat on a seat next to a window, and I soon fell asleep.
The next thing I remember, there was this excruciating pain, I think a thousand pieces of glass were stabbing me form all sides.
Then there was just nothing. There was me, without any pain. But there was nothing more. I was dead.
But...
No! How? There is so much I didn't do!
I never told that special one how I feel, even if there was never a "right time".
I didn't say I'm sorry to the one I hurt.
I've never heard my favorite band  perform.
I didn't tell all my friends how much they really mean to me, I just pretended I didn't care, when, actually, I don't know how I would manage without them.
I didn't find out all the things I wanted to learn, nor did I master all the skills I wished for.
I didn't finish the drawing that has been laying under my bed for weeks.
I didn't help out the ones most dear to me.
I didn't get rid of my fears and doubts.
I didn't repay the ones I owe, nor did I thank the ones who wanted nothing for the help they gave.
I have so much thoughts I want to share with the world! Please let me go back!
I wish to go...

 - Go where?

Go LIVE. All I ask, is for another chance to live.

Cicmila

Grey

It's dark and grey. The whole world, washed out of color. The people, washed out of emotions.

A grey girl with a grey scarf walks past a grey boy, with a grey cap.

A man sits on a grey bench, next to a grey stone.

A grey sky, with a grey sun. Grey birds, silent. The grey world, lost.

A grey girl in a grey room, with a grey notebook opened before her. A grey pen in her hand. A grey bow on her head. She wishes to write, but the past four notebooks she could fill with only one thing: emptiness. She dreams of something more, but there's nothing more to dream of. 

Or... What if there is?

She ran to her bedside table and opened one of the drawers. Inside, a grey candle in a jar. She took it out, putting it on the table near the window. She lit the candle, shining out bright, grey light. She took her grey pen and started writing.
Her hand was flying over the papers in all directions, writing out words she didn't know the meaning of. Then she took the papers, folded them, and put them in the candle jar.
It burned, oh how it burned! In colors of red and orange, yellow and pink! Oh how it burned!
Then the wind blew from the window, swirling around the room, getting in the jar and out, carrying the ash with it.
It flew.
The girl opened her eyes, and lost her breath. Her rosy skin, green eyes and pink cheeks were looking back at her from the reflection in the window.
Hope. Happiness.

It flew.
The old man spotted a red rose and picked it up, placing it next to the silver stone. "Goodbye, my love. I will see you soon", he says.
Freedom. Trust. Loyalty. Strength.

It flew.
A girl ran to catch the red scarf that got carried away by the wind. It lands before the feet of a boy with a yellow cap. He picks it up for her. "Is it yours?", he asks. "Yes. Yes, it is. Thank you.", the girl replies. "Please, it was my pleasure. My name is...."
Beauty. Confidence. Love.

It flew.
The sun shining with unimaginable colors, the blue sky and colorful birds singing all around them. The once grey world, now colored. The people once washed out, reborn, full of life, happy.
Color. Emotion. Music. Nature.

It flew.
What did it fly over to you?

Cicmila