Writing

Staring at the wall, I can see shapes.  They seem alive.  Are they trying to communicate with me?  Should I try to communicate with them?  I'll reach out with my mind.  They are moving. Does it mean something?  That one is turning a deep blue, like staring into the depths of the ocean.  Maybe it is angry.  Did I make it angry?   It's coming away from the wall towards me now.  I can't seem to move.  It is surrounding me.  Now the other shapes are here, each a different color.  Red moves in front of my face, taking on a ghostly form.  I can see a face forming, eyes and a mouth.  The mouth splits open, showing darkness inside. "Who are you?" I say. "Who are you?" Red echos back. Blue still surrounds us.  How did I get here?  Is this some kind of dream?  Just then, Purple takes shape to my right and pushes up against me.  It seems like they are real. "Who are you?" Red says again. "John" I say. "John" says Red. A mouth opens up

I wrote this a while ago.  It is a description of a classroom in a story that I am still working on. I should make a few attempts to rewrite this.  I think I could do better now. The classroom is set up in a half round amphitheater style.  The instructor stands out in front of the first row.  From there, he or she controls a 3D projection device that can produce images high up above so all the students can easily see them.  There are five rows ranging from a radius of about five feet up to the last row at about 25 feet.  Each row has a continuous seat and table that stretches all the way around.  There are steps on each side of the half circle.  The base for the seats and table are all made from concrete.  The seats are then covered with a soft black plastic material to make them warmer and more comfortable to sit on.  The table top is covered with gray and white stone polished so you can see your reflection. All this allows for about 45 students to sit comfortably.  The table top i