Drabble #5: indigo

your hair is a mess, big and brown, ruffled against a night of vibrant dreams, running and jumping and falling freely through miles of uncharted airspace, ruffled against the pillows, the static building up from the friction of hair versus fabric, yours eyes are stuck shut with the residue of rapid eye movement, deep dreaming, memory building, reformation of the neural passage, your feet are sticking out from under the indigo and green patched duvet you tossed around all night, the light shining in against your pink wrinkled cheek where the creases from your pajama sleeves left their wicked marks.