There is a science to contentment in a world of gray and blue. Our levels of estrogen, our dopamine production, are all regulated by the endocrine system. When we laugh, when we smile, when our hearts beat, the movement of muscles is triggered by the musculoskeletal and nervous systems working in unison. We are human after all, so a healthy dose of this is fine. But because we are human, our biological makeup makes us easily susceptible to fluctuation in hormone secretions, and it is when it occurs too often and in great succession, this can prove fatal. When one gets angry for example, they must be careful not to boil over with rage, or else their skin may burn and blister. When one becomes frozen stiff from shock, they must seek medical attention immediately or risk dying of hypothermia. And it is when one is inflicted by love that it becomes the most deadly, infectious disease of them all. To be blinded by love or to face a heartache, even worse, heartbreak, is irreversible. Maybe in another world, in the other world, this would be normal, but in this world of gray and blue, it is not. In this world, one must take precautions. Take your vitamins, drink the tap water, enroll in a yoga class to cleanse the body and mind. Take any preventative measure possible to live a long, content life.

~~~

Midnight blue, baby blue, steel blue. A young woman stood in the kitchen, staring down at the tablets within the palm of her hand. One by one she swallowed them followed by a sip of water. After setting the cup down, she padded over to the balcony and stepped outside, bare feet making contact with concrete. Below her was the community area belonging to the apartment complex. A grill squatted in the corner, with steel lawn chairs scattered about on the manicured, gray grass. A small flower garden lined the left side of the fence. The palette was one that she saw every day: neutral shades of gray, spattered with all varying hues of blue. But above her was something completely different. Like a glass lens reflecting a mirror image of her own world, floated the other world. It always had a strange, vivid presence to it, whether it be day or night, there was always a sense of liveliness that it exuded. Spanning across miles of space and empty matter, it could still be felt from here.

The sun slowly continued to make its trek upwards into the sky, casting long shadows across the community garden until, at noon, like a balloon being cut from its string, the sun rose past the stratosphere, away from the world of concrete buildings and calm ocean waves, floating up to the other world before sinking into its ocean. The current world plunged into darkness, and like a seed planted, the other world sprouted forth, bearing shimmering wheat fields, rich pastures. A kaleidoscope of unnamed colors bloomed over on the other side. The two worlds existed parallel to one another; two worlds that were never meant to exchange anything but the sun.

From the world of familiar gray and blue, the woman continued to stare upward in the darkness, wondering, if she squinted hard enough, would she be able to see someone standing on their own balcony staring back at her? Would they be pondering the same thing? Shaking her head, she returned to the house and made her way into the bedroom, where she climbed into bed beside her partner. It dipped underneath her weight, and the man turned his head awkwardly to greet her. The room, too, was painted in a light shade of blue, adorned with neutral furniture.

"I was watching the exchange of the sun," she informed him as she wiggled her way into the covers.

"I know. You've been doing that for a while now."

"Why don't you join me next time? The other world was particularly colorful today. You ever wonder what those colors are called?"

He frowned at this. "Not particularly." There is a brief pause in the conversation as the man rolled onto his side away from the woman, trying to get into a comfortable position to allow himself some shut eye.

"Do you ever dream?" she asked, scooting closer.

"Do I dream? Of course I do. Goals right? Doesn't everyone have them?"

"Not that kind of dream, I mean do you dream."

"No, that's impossible. What's been going through your mind lately? Is something going on at work?"

Of course, in this world, to dream was a word better associated with aspirations. The woman, realizing she had asked an odd question, released a titter of polite laughter with no feeling to it. It was a hollow sound, a conventional break to end the conversation. The man, sensing this, turned again to envelop her in his arms, following this with a quick peck on her forehead. Neither of their hearts quickened at this action, at this proximity, but instead, it was again a feeling of contentment.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he murmured. 

"Don't worry, you didn't. I was just being silly."

He didn't respond to this, and in the silence, they both drifted off into a deep slumber.

She dreamed that night, or what could be described as being remotely similar to a dream. It was brief and fragmented, but she could recall the imagery of someone's backside as they went up a set of stairs: a man. His silhouette was not one she was familiar with. At the top of the stairs awaited a door, in which he did not hesitate to open despite her wails to wait, to slow down. Following immediately after him, she stepped clear into a meadow of colors she had never seen before. A gray sky hovered above them. He whirled around, revealing a set of eyes the color of the galaxy. Staring into them, the point where their eyes were in direct line with each other, it was like the universes were truly aligned. If they touch, she felt as if their worlds would rip at the seams.

She woke with a start. A sheen of sweat coated her forehead and her underarms were perspiring. She placed a hand against her chest and felt the rapid thump thump thump of her heart. What was wrong with her? This strange sensation made it difficult to breathe. Looking around the bed, she noticed it was vacant. Her boyfriend had left at dawn for work at the laboratory, and today just so happened to be her day off. Stumbling to her feet, she rushed to the kitchen and rummaged in the cupboard for some medication. Finding the correct bottle, she rattled it a few times to make sure a few pills were left over before tossing back two and downing a glass of water. Sinking to the floor, she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.

This had been going on for the past few weeks now. First, it was the murmur of a voice. She had woken up immediately afterward, thinking she was just catching herself talking in her sleep. But then as the days went by, the voice was matched to features such as a crease between the brows, a dimple hidden beneath flesh, but they were never pieced together all at once. Nevertheless, this person was then connected to a body. She didn't like how his smiles were a bit too wide and his laughs too loud. It was dangerous.

"You shouldn't feel too much," she said to him in one dream. "It's bad for your health."

"Smile for me just once why don't you?" he had replied.

In the recent dreams though, he didn't speak. It wasn't like the dreams were long enough to hold a full conversation, however, it was enough time to at least exchange a few words. But the fact that she was dreaming in the first place was unusual, not to mention it was in such vivid color and it was always of a man she didn't know. To dream, to have your emotions run out of control wasn't of this world. She was considering paying another visit to her doctor soon. This could soon prove to be detrimental to her health.

After her pulse calmed down and her breathing returned to normal, she made a breakfast of a fried egg and two slices of toast, completing the meal with a glass of milk. She then moved on to do laundry, vacuum the living room, scrub the toilet, water the gray potted plants on the balcony. She busied herself with these mundane tasks on her day off until it was time for the exchange of the sun again.

Leaning against the railing, she stared up at the sky. The other world was dark, as they were experiencing their own night currently, but it was still illuminated with a network of lights. She wondered what her own world looked like from their point of view. How did they see our grays and blues? Did they notice the different hues, the varying shades? Turning towards the sun, she noticed something off about it today. It seemed a bit more distant, as if it were traveling farther this time around to retrieve something. But that was impossible. The sun always traveled the same distance, always made the same trip, nothing should be different about it. Between this world and that, it should be the same as it was yesterday, and the day before that.

When the exchange is complete, she returned to her empty bed. Her boyfriend was resting in his own apartment across town near the lab, only coming over a few times a week to spend time with her, and the time they spent together was enjoyable. Their relationship was like any other couples'. Although love was not felt in this world, people were still able to find contentment with one another, and naturally, people were still drawn to each other. Science still had yet to explain everything in this world. 

She dreamed of a having vague conversation with the mystery man that night. The two of them were nowhere, the place they were in didn't exist: surrounded by darkness, as if their beings were floating in nothingness, but she could feel his presence beside her.

"Why don't you talk to me anymore?"

"Aww," he cooed. "Do you miss me that much already?"

"I don't know what that feels like."

He made an amused sound through his nose. "Do you ever wonder what it's like to feel?"

"I