The Writers' Circle

It wasn't a bright idea. No, certainly not. It wasn't bright. It wasn't a brilliant show of beautiful white light which bounced off the walls and shone in his eyes till his mind turned numb with insanity and he was forced to turn it off. 
It was a rushed idea, a gorgeous, careless, rushed idea. It had come in a midst of honking and shouting and red light blazing, so thoughtless and brazen that he could not ignore it.
Yet, like the best of his ideas it had turned up at his mind's doorstep when he was in a moment of complete solitude, so utterly alone that even his dreams were devoid of anybody and anything except himself. 
This particular idea had come about one day early last winter when the snow was new and the sky was thick with fog. The mist around him was so dense that he was more alone than he had ever been .There were times when he was sure he was walking upside down because the air appeared more white that the ground below him. 
It was this state of being which Casper loved. He was in a shape of complete bliss when he was all alone, walking in his own world, where it didn't matter if he was flying or crawling or walking upside down because there was no one else there to prove to him what was normal. It was the perfect sense of euphoria, carefree and eternal. Casper could wander around for hours in his new-found happiness until someone would find him and take him back to where he felt strange and unfamiliar. 
That was why this idea was so genius. Casper had to admit, it was his best yet. The more he thought about it, the better it got. He almost could not wait to get back and put his plan into action. 
He grinned at the thought of their faces when they heard his idea. 
"But No! No, no, they must not know, they can't find out, it's my idea, mine! And they'll spoil it." Casper was whispering fast and in short breaths; the cold and his excitement making his cheeks flushed and his voice high-pitched. 
"Yes! YES!" He shouted. The yell was cast out into the emptiness and it spread out through the fog, running deep into the forest. Casper laughed at the hollowness. He whooped and laughed, jumped about, delirious with the genius of his plan.