White Noise

The jester accidentally dropped his mask, during the performance, and Molly froze in terror.

A counsellor had told her,

“The sounds in your head have risen to a level, where you can’t hear the fusion. We call it ‘white noise’.”

The noise was turning black, as it got spiked with hatred. Life was no longer about victimhood and self-pity. The auditorium resonated with the sound of gunshots.

Two bodies swayed before the fall. One was the performer on stage. Another was a girl in the audience, drifting to another level of consciousness. She was finally the captain of her ship.

Weekly Writing Prompt #103

(‘drift’ has been used in lieu of ‘sail’)

Image: esire.deviantart.com