I'm in a car, in the passenger seat. It's dark outside. The sky is completely black, with no stars visible. Looking to the left or right I see white streetlights, white lights in the building I just came out of, and many colors of signs, but I don't look left or right. I look straight ahead. Straight ahead there are a few streetlights as well. There is also a set of three red traffic lights, the same shade as the many red lights on the backs of the cars in front of us. There is also an orange hand-shaped light in front of the crosswalk, but it looks nearly the same color as all the red. It is raining. I can hear the raindrops landing on the windows of the car, making sort of muffled, irregular clicking sounds, but not as noticeable as the scrape-scrape sound of the windshield wipers that happens every couple of seconds or the regular ticking of the turn signal. There are two overlapping arcs on the windshield where, for a split second, everything is clear, and then a few raindrops appear only to be wiped away in a few seconds, in a never-ending cycle. But that's not as interesting as the rest of the windshield, where the raindrops have piled up; in that part of the windshield, every light looks much bigger than it actually is, but when I look more closely I can see it's as if each raindrop has its own tiny light. Suddenly, some slightly-bluish green appears in the sea of red, a very different color than what I'd been looking at. White lights appear, going past on the left, and red lights become dimmer. The humming of the engine that I'd tuned out gets louder, and we accelerate towards a less-busy road that I recognize as being closer to home.


I am lying down in my bed. I should be sleeping, but I haven't been able to. I'm kind of feeling too hot, and my head kind of hurts. I'm kind of tired, but not as tired as I was a few hours ago. There is a bluish ambient light outside the window to my right, that has been growing brighter gradually, very gradually, which has caused a mysterious awake feeling. A lone bird starts chirping, breaking the silence that has been going on all night. To the left is a closet, made of a kind of darkish wood, surrounded by a white wall. While this closet is initially fairly uninteresting, eventually a yellow-orange sunbeam appears, or perhaps more accurately, several skinny parallel horizontal sunbeams appear, due to the blinds. The part of the sunbeam farthest away from me has an irregular edge, presumably due to a tree outside. I can see a few branches of a tree from where I am, but the perspective isn't enough to see the whole thing. Eventually, the bird becomes silent and the sunbeams start slowly turning white, and it is a new day.


I am in my middle school, in the library. I should be working on a project, but I can't concentrate. I look out the window, which faces east. The library is on the ground floor, so I can see the ground easily. In the distance is a dark, purplish cloud. However, the roof that is in front of the front door is a bright white, since the sun is shining, and a tree to my left appears to be glowing fluorescent green, which is weird but beautiful against the much darker sky. There are also shadows on the ground, a clear sign that the sun is shining. I look some more, and see in the sky a bit of color, a faint piece of a rainbow—not those fake rainbows like I might draw if I were trying to draw a rainbow, which have every color perfectly and go all the way across the sky, but a real rainbow, with the colors sort of blending together, and not perfectly saturated, and only going across part of the sky.