The water drop slowly slid its way down the side of the clear, plastic cup. Separated by a layer of corn based polymer, it passed by glistening cubes of ice and slices of fresh lemon intermingling with small chunks of ginger.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Its.... weird, it just... kinda happens...”
Curiosity blazes across from me. A warm, probing field of energy, reaching across to me. I shy away. Not really comfortable with the invisible pressure. I back off, moving my energy deeper into my body.
“So you can’t control it?”
“Not yet, I’m still practicing. Sometimes it’s easier, sometimes it’s harder. But it takes a lot of concentration”.
We stare a the table. At the intricate mosaic of shell and glass fragments. There’s a coffee stain that has soaked into the plaster, leaving a mismatched circle among the cracks.
A small group of friends walks by talking in loud voices. The pressure from across the table vanishes and I can breath again. My comrade is distracted. In that time I am able to sequester my energy back into my self as I prepare for the coming torrent of questions.
“How long have you been able to do this?”.
“Since my father died”.
“So do you feel it, or see it? Or is it more like a sixth sense kind of thing?”
“Uhhh... mainly I sense it, but sometimes, depending on the person, I can feel it”.
“And the colors... so do different people have different colors? And are the colors like, our energies, or what?”
“ Yeah, the colors I feel are individual energies, generated by each person. But-”.
“So you can actually tell peoples colors?!”
“.... uhhh, yea-”.
“What’s my color?”
I stare across the café table at my companion. But I don’t just stare, I feel. I feel the bounding curiosity, and a slight longing for something unknown, and I feel a color. Unlike some people who are hard to read, my friend is a distinct, light -
“Yellow,” I say. “Kinda like a peach, only with a slightly lighter tone”.
“Woah...”
I shrug my shoulders, not really sure of what to say. It’s strange. Some people would say its a type of hypersensitivity, some would say it’s some ridiculous crap. I don’t know. Sometimes I don’t really believe it myself. Whatever it is, it’s an old feeling that’s completely new to me and has become my norm.
I sit there contemplating the perspiring beverage in front of me. As I clear my mind and expand my energy, I begin to feel the multitudes of brightly shining bubbles pulsating, bobbing and swirling around the plaza. They are my fellow park patrons. There are different shapes and sizes, brightnesses and tones, yet all have the distinct feel of life. Electric pulses and currents running throughout each individual, generating small waves of energy that build and build until they form a blanket around the body.
The group of friends have settled themselves behind us in some of the elegant benches that adorn the park. Their voices carry the vibrant onda that resonates throughout this city. Closing my eyes, I probe behind me until I reach the dazzling array of turquoises, oranges and tangerines, coupled with the shimmering yellow light you see when the sun glances off the bay.
I immerse myself in their joy. Feeling as the positive energy flows though them and into me. And I look up past the old plaster buildings and I smile.
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