“Blur III”

Brushstrokes. Light flutters of air teased his feet, and then his hands, and then finally, his face. They tried to tame the fire that was growing within him. He gasped for breath.

Applied force, on his back. One moment he was on the ground, and then next moment he was off, floating lightly as if he had wings. The air kept teasing him more often now, whisked into an erratic quickstep, a passionate tango, a playful jive.

Racing. It seemed as if he was racing with... something. Either his friends, the wisps of air, or something more monumental. He pondered this as he continued floating, concentrating on listening to his heartbeat—the faint, constant pulses, that seemed as fragile as a paper crane.

Appraising. He could not see what they could see, nor judge what they were judging, but he knew they were nevertheless. Many intent eyes were on him, seeking out flaws and appraising. 

Moans. They came from everywhere and nowhere at once. He heard them all around him, or were they really in his head? Suppressing and tortuous at the same time, he wished for the silence again.

Author’s Note: 바람 (baram) is wind in Korean. Sorry for another late update, still hoping to get back into the swing of things.. I really enjoyed writing this one though. SFPM.