Yellow

I was asked, no, instructed to close my eyes and remain silent. My pigtailed friend told me to imagine myself standing on top a chrome skyscraper as she grabbed my shoulders and swayed them back and forth, back and forth. Felt the wind delicately whipping through my hair as it cooed in my ears. Pictured the sky above me, grey and bleak yet shining a dull afternoon moon-glow. Feet trembling yet grounded, sneakers tied, shoulder-width apart. Never looked down, only forward, seeing the neighboring skyscrapers at eye-level. Now imagine someone suddenly came up behind you and PUSHED YOU she yelled as she extended her elbows forcefully, interrupting me from my trance. When I pushed you, what color did you see? I was uncertain at the abruptness. Confused. In shock. Unwilling to depart from my previous scenario. As it ended in a flash and I fell off the ledge, a fleeting moment of intense color entered my black shut-eyed view. Yellow? That means when you die, you’ll die while looking up at the sun.