Terror in the dayMr Sharma’s head was still throbbing with pain from the crash, and his stomach rumbled with fear.
The wind whistled through the gentle fields and noble trees. The tree branches swayed softly, and the leaves fluttered with kindly tremor. The birds sailed in the sky, like drifting leaves. The clouds blocked the sun. But soon, the sun rays managed to penetrate the clouds, and golden rays of the sun graciously glittered the world. Mr Sharma stood on the balcony, which overlooked the rolling lawns and dreamy fields, and looked admiringly at the natural beauty of his delightful village. The lush green fields were oozing with warmth, and a gentle breeze blew. The smell of the baked earth lingered in the air, and it filled the secluded chambers of his lungs with an uplifting vigour. It was then that a deep admiration for the one who created the earth. How fascinating, how delightful, how splendid it is of god to create such sprawling, rich and vibrant nature. He gripped the cold steel railings of the balcony and took a deep breath until his lungs expanded fully. He then headed back in his room.
Mr Sharma was feeling fit. The air seemed to be charged with electricity, and he wanted to jump and scream and felt the blood in his veins throb against his skin. He had never felt so youthful. Glowing a genial glow, Mr Sharma gracefully sank into his seat. His scanned the room, and outside the window, he saw something and caused him to get up from his chair. The sight made him jump out of his skin. Not believing what he was seeing, he closed his eyes and rubbed them with his fat knuckles. He opened his eyes and looked again. Monstrously dark clouds covered the bright blue sky. It was morning, but ominous darkness blanketed everything. A scent of gloom hung in the air. For a second, all was black and bewildering; then something white oozed out from the darkness.
Thinking that he heard a tapping sound, Mr Sharma scratched his ears, only to realise that it was the sound of his pounding heart. Unable to see in the thick darkness, he ran straight into the wall. The impact of the collision had him lying sprawled with his back on the ground. Clutching his swollen forehead, he stood up. The black silence of the day was shattered time and again by the streaks of lightning. The lightning were followed by thunders, which shook the earth and the foundation of Mr Sharma’s house. The louder the roar, the more violent the shaking. Standing in the corner of the house, Mr Sharma saw a bolt of bright lightning, and then his home melted. He found himself standing under a tall, thin tree, with far-reaching branches. It was all surreal. The air was blue, and the sky was light purple. Giant odd-shaped creatures rose from the ground, and large monstrous birds floated in the air. The trees were large and mushroom-like, with strange hideous pimple-like boils protruding from all their pores. Mr Sharma’s head was still throbbing with pain from the crash, and his stomach rumbled with fear. Harsh light seemed to be assailing his eyes.
With terror creeping from every corner of his soul and fear stirring in his stomach, Mr Sharma froze. There was a crunching and cracking sound. The tree seemed to be swaying to and fro, and heat mists rose from their roots. The hideous pimples cracked open, and frothy green slime oozed out of them. The slime gathered at the edge of the pimples and then slowly dripped down into the ground. Soon, rivers of slime were slithering on the ground like green snakes. The nerves on his wrist began to tap. Terror-stricken, Mr Sharma began to climb the tree, and he leapt from one branch to another, and then he fell on the ground with a loud thud. He felt like he had broken multiple bones and was in immense pain. Mr Sharma sat motionlessly on the ground and watched the waves of frothy green slime cover him. Unable to bear the pain and the sight, Mr Sharma closed his eyes, and just then, he heard a booming voice. The darkness, the tall ugly trees, the purple skies, the blue air, the frothy green slime had vanished. He found himself lying on his bed, and he overheard two people talking.
“What happened, dear?” inquired an urgent voice.
“Mr Sharma got out of bed and ran straight against the wall. He then went berserk.”
“He did. He started climbing the wall, upsetting the pictures and crashing the frames. Then he jumped straight onto the wall and thumped his head against it. I think he has gone cuckoo.”
Lying on his bed, Mr Sharma felt the words hard to digest. The sun seemed to stream down the window, and the gentle breeze seemed to clear up his clouded head. He had never felt saner. He had never felt more present and aware of what was happening around him. He felt alert and intelligent. He felt like the old himself. Then suddenly, he found himself being placed on a hard stretcher and being lugged into an ambulance. Then he shut his eyes and thanked God that he was no longer insane.