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by Lethys
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Dark · #1694707
Short story, randomworks.
She leaned on the gray counter, watching the kids play on the gray floor. Well, it wasn't just the floor that was gray - their toys were gray, their clothes were gray, their whole lives were gray.
She took some fresh clothes, gray ones, and finished her morning coffee. The coffee and cookies tasted more like sawdust, but she was used to it. It's been months since she drank, or ate anything remotely tasty. Not that she would notice. Everything tasted the same to her these days.
She washed the cup and put it into its proper place.
She took her kids into the car without saying a word. Iit was time for them to go to school. While driving, she didn't speak at all, and it was about half an hour into the drive by the time the kids caught on. They settled down and looked at her, quietly looking at one another, trying to guess the reasons for their mother's silence. After she turned left where she should have gone right, a whole new level of tension arose, and the stillness was such that every subtle rattle, clank, or crack could be heard during the ride.
Fifteen minutes later, she stopped the car by a big gray prison-like building. One by one, she sat the kids on the pavement, gave them tiny paper bags, one to each, sat in the car, and drove off, again without a word.
She didn't look back, not even in the mirror. Her empty, forward-locked gaze seemed to be kept on the road, but in fact, she wasn't paying any attention at all. She was back inside the city. The tall, gray buildings were looming over the streets like guards. Prison guards. And it was indeed a prison. A gray, never-changing prison of moving from one cheap flat to another, from one job to another, and nobody to share the pain with but a silent grave. She entered one of the gray buildings, slowly climbing up the stairs. Her steps echoed through the deserted corridors, reminding her of the ticking of a clock - each step was a second towards the end.
There were no stairs left. Nowhere left to climb. She opened the heavy gray door, and walked to the edge of the roof. It wasn't hard to stand at the edge. No, she felt like she was standing on the edge for months now anyways. She looked down, at the city. It was gray, just like anything else the last few months. What months - to her, it seemed like the world was gray since before she could remember. The constant heavy rain had washed away all the colors, and there was nobody who could bring out the sun. She looked at the gray pavement, watching the gray people with gray umbrellas or gray raincoats for a moment, before closing her eyes and taking a step forward.

She was free.

Red blood colored the gray pavement, and for the first time in a long time, the people in the city saw some color.
© Copyright 2010 Lethys (lethys at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1694707-A-Proper-Shade-of-Black-and-White