🌾 The Flooded Fields ☁️

puncakbukit (78)in #photography • 20 days ago

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_{(Effect by DeepArtEffects)}

The afternoon began with a sense of dizzying speed, a rhythmic clack-clack beneath me—the sound of a train rushing past the flooded fields. The world outside the window was a flat, endless expanse of silver-grey water and dark, precisely segmented squares. But as I watched, the reflections grew monstrously deep, and the sky, heavy with grey clouds, seemed to press down, its vastness becoming claustrophobic. The water wasn't just reflecting the clouds; it was consuming them.

A sudden, jarring lurch threw me against the cold glass. Looking closer, I realized the water was not still; it was creeping, rising with unnatural speed. The neat, planted rows beneath the surface started to move, not like wind-swept rice, but like a silent, dark army slowly emerging from the muck. The horizon dissolved into a smear of grey, and the train, my supposed escape, felt trapped in this drowned world, slowing to a heavy, sluggish crawl.

The final terror was the stillness after the movement. The train stopped completely, engulfed by a pervasive, chilling silence. I tried to open the window, but my hands moved through thick air, useless. Outside, the water level was now eye-to-eye with the glass, perfectly mirroring my own terrified reflection, yet the reflection wasn't mine—it was a pale, waterlogged face with empty, wide-open eyes staring back, inches from my own.

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