Light Through the Window
Light Through the Window (first published on Red Monster)
The light coming through the window is milky white and the light insipid, the girl sits at an equally dirty grey laptop writing, wondering when the lunch bell will ring and release her from the torment of getting those sticky thoughts she can not abide down on the screen page. The screen page is also a dull white infused with that slightly grating light that hurts the eyes, it is draining, the colours of the world have tarnished in its glow. Headache sets in and she longs for sleep but she may not as she is just killing time.
Time, it seems is, not so easy to kill, though it was the killer that had taken so many away. That is the reason why she sits and stares and types meaningless nothing. The funeral is at least three hours away and there is nothing but her own mind for company – a mind that in substance and actuality is the pearlised grey of the sleet clouds that roll lazily over the world outside her window.
Her mind feels like the clouds nebulous and stark in soaring latitudes that pummel the ground with a ferocious torrent. The girl longs for the golden warmth of autumn sun but the harsh sun of the summer never came and the world is still locked in the winter-esque throes. Warm and damp and above all grey. The azure blue was but a memory the world has dimmed, and the girl waits.
And waits but still the clouds slowly shuffle across the blanketed sky and she awaits the rituals of death that have no meaning for her.
She would cry if the greyness would leave, but it will not; perhaps this is a good thing as beneath it is the black and red of angry despair and such a soul as hers that has been drained of its colour could not take their strength nor vibrancy.
Posted: Thursday, August 26th, 2010 @ 9:33 pm
Categories: Flash Fiction.
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