Colors | A flash fiction story
42 of 💯
The aggressive colors were melting and mixing in Agh’s eyes, the world a blur of cyan and pink. When it got to this point, the gargantuan screens, the neon signs that screamed colors into his eyes, the stupidly bright holograms, they all merged into a cacophony of visual stimuli.
He blinked his sleep-deprived eyes, trying to bring the bounty board into focus. Time for the next job. Now. Otherwise, he would fall again into the nauseating spiral that would ultimately bring him to the realization — the memory — of how much he hated this world.
He picked the first thing that would pay a fair buck for his troubles and unpocketed one of the tiny black capsules from his purple jacket. He put it in the metallic indentation on his forearm and the tiny mechanism shot the substance into his bloodstream.
The pathway of dopamine receptors in his brain lit up like the massive highways of some forgotten world. A tasty dose of adrenaline pushed him into movement. The colors came into focus, his vision sharp, his body ready. He was one with the lights.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and disappeared in the colorful night, a purple dot traveling the rainbow streets of this neon-washed world.
