Night of Colour

I have been living in a fog for 18 and a half months.
 
For 81 weeks I save seen the world around me as nothing but dull; made up of murky browns, dreary greys and off greens.
 
Sometimes the fog becomes so thick that I can't see the floor under my feet. I cling to my bedsheets like a raft drifting in this ocean of mist.
 
I scratch, claw, cut at my skin to check that's it's still there beneath the fog.
 
My other senses try to make up for my clouded vision. I hear every whisper like deafening thunder. I feel every touch like a blade dragged across my flesh.
 
But after 567 days of the most persistent fog, it lifted...for a few minutes anyway.
 
At 10:03pm, on the drive home, I could suddenly see everything. The brilliant reds, yellows and greens of traffic lights. The striking white lights of oncoming cars and the way the light bounced off the road. Every single droplet of rain, every speck of dust.  
 
I could see in f****** colour!
 
Everything from the dash in front of me to the silhouettes of mountains in the distance. I could see it all.
 
Of course, the fog came back. It seeped into my sight and only allowed the occasional flicker of that bright, brilliant world in.
 
By the time I reached home, my world had been smothered again by the fog. But I would always remember my night of colour.