There’s so much color. It hurts. We’re in a restaurant, and the noise is breaking against me, wave after wave assaulting my senses. Shapes of all colors swirl around me. Nothing makes sense.
I clutch the coffee mug, trying hard to focus on the warm, familiar flavor as it goes down. A memory of sunshine on a kitchen table rises up inside me. There were birds singing. Oh yes, and my old dog Dusti snoring in the corner. That’s good.
But the noise and the cyclone of colors become too much. I panic, push back my chair, and blindly stumble through the threatening chaos. The sun hits my face as the door opens. Someone asks if I’m all right. The street noise is loud, but at least the sun washes out the colors. I start walking.
I’m not sure where. Nowhere sounds nice. At last, it is silent.