By Mark Hamilton - Year 11, Cromwell College
White. All there is, is white.
The room has no floor, no roof no walls.
It's both tall and short, wide and thin. It is what you would think that the black void would be, but white.
White as the pearls at the bottom of the sea, white like the fluffy clouds on a warm sunny day.
The clouds float in the light blue sky, the Great Oak tree sits on the top of the hill.
The roots of the tree slowly grow in any direction they choose, they act like the dull pink worms that dig to stay away from predators.
They act like the branches that are roots in the sky.
They hold up the bird nests in which their birds reside.
The birds hunt for the worms on the short green grass, grass cooked by the yellow ball that is called the sun.
The sun's rays pierce the deep aqua water. They shine off the scales of the small fish that take refuge in the bright red coral.
They hide from the big fish that are in a game of survival with the small fish and the big grey sharks.
The sharks' teeth not yet stained in blood, are white - as white as the white room. As white as the white room's black.
It's as black as the coals that fuel the fire.
Embering with heat the grey stone forge. Smelting silver steel that will make an axe.
The red-hot embers pop, catching the blood-red banner. The banner of the golden crown turns orange with the flames that crackle and burn the wooden house.
The house is placed in the middle of a forest.
The forest floor is dark green, untouched by light.
Until the fire comes and burns it all, the smoke rises towards the twinkling stars in the dark night sky.
The big full moon illuminates the ashes of what was once trees.
In the middle is a grey stone forge, untouched by flame. Under the forge are the coals that caused all of this.
The coals are black, as black as the black room. As black as the black room is white.
