The door opens and in she walks with a white red cone. One that was folded now to a foot length and that offered support to sight more than it did to walking. It seemed as though it has don its mission and Marsia was finally home -the place she knew every corner of. Or at least the way to the world that was a corner itself.
Steps of what's close to confidence and knowing exactly where to be were louder than the trembling bell that was attached to the door. Eyes to the floor with a hand counting numbers.
Just when he could make her features out, a left turn she takes. Disappearing behind a row of high shelves which had freshly been painted the shade of red it should not have.
He sips his coffee. It was times like this he hated how shortsighted he was.
-,-,-,-,-
Author's note: No, she isn't the Hulk. :)
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The Color Deaf
DiversosA story about two, whose only way to communicate was touch. Marsia enjoyed letting someone with stained canvases and thick brushes draw in front of her in silence, even though the two of them weren't 'good' when it came to colors. He'd color the gr...
