Hidden hue in a monochrome world

Black Is The New Red

Ming woke up to the usual dullness of the world. His bedroom was a study in shades of grey—the faded posters on his walls, the worn-out sheets on his bed, the old carpet beneath his feet. He rolled out of bed, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. The sun was already up, casting its soft silver light through the window, but it might as well have been any other time of day. In this world, there was no difference between dawn and dusk, just varying degrees of grey.

He shuffled to his closet, pulling out his standard school uniform: a black shirt, grey pants, and a pair of worn black shoes. Ming was about to put on his shirt when something caught his eye—a flicker of color, a flash of red. He paused, staring at the fabric in his hands. For the briefest of moments, it wasn't just black—it was something else, something vibrant and alive.

Ming blinked and shook his head. The red was gone, replaced by the familiar, comforting black. He couldn't say he was surprised. These strange flashes had been happening for as long as he could remember. At first, he'd been excited, eager to share his discovery with anyone who would listen. But the excitement quickly faded, replaced by confusion and then frustration. No one believed him. His parents dismissed it as a trick of the light, his teachers said he was imagining things, and his classmates just gave him strange looks.

So now, Ming kept it to himself. He didn't mention the colors anymore, didn't try to explain what he saw. It was easier that way. He slipped the shirt over his head, smoothing out the wrinkles. Black was the new red, he told himself, trying to push the thought out of his mind. It was just a glitch, nothing more.

He grabbed his bag and headed downstairs. His mother was in the kitchen, a cup of grey tea in her hands, her face was bright unlike the world around them. "Morning, Ming," she said, not looking up from her tea.

"Morning," he replied, smiling. He grabbed a slice of toast—grey, like everything else—and shoved it in his mouth as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

The walk to school was as uneventful as always. The same dull streets, the same lifeless buildings. Ming's school was a squat, grey structure, blending in perfectly with its surroundings. The students filed in, their faces happy and dissapointed because of yet another school day, their clothes the same monochrome palette. Ming slipped into his seat at the back of the classroom, pulling out his books.

The day dragged on, as it always did. Lessons blurred together, teachers' voices droning in a flat, emotionless tone. Ming tried to pay attention, but his mind kept wandering back to that flash of red. He could still see it in his mind, bright and vivid, standing out against the black. He knew better than to think about it too much. It was just another oddity in a world full of them.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the day, Ming packed up his things and headed out of the classroom. Outside, the world was still grey, the sky a uniform shade of silver. But Ming couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere, just out of reach, color was waiting for him. It was a ridiculous thought, he knew. But it was there, nagging at the back of his mind, like a word he couldn't quite remember.

Ming pushed the thought aside as he made his way home, blending back into the monotony of his everyday life. For now, black would have to do.