Colour is the aspect of things that is caused by differing quantities of light being reflected or emitted by them.
To see colour, we have to have light, but there is none in my head. My thoughts are bleak and cold.
There are seven colours in a rainbow - violet indigo blue green yellow orange red - and I can’t imagine a single one.
My world is one interwoven web of words, stringing limb to limb, bone to sinew, thoughts and images all together.
I am a being comprised of letters, a character created by sentences, a figment of imagination formed through her thoughts.
Who am I? I’m a nobody. I’m a nothing. I don’t exist.
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YOU ARE READING
The Written
Fantasy"I'm nothing. Just a figment of her imagination. A paper character.A written...." We all read books but has anyone ever wondered about the lives of the characters? Tormented by a life that isn't even a life, this character who doesn't even posses a...
