Days later, she came in with a shoulder bag. A blue one. Her eyes were under squared shades, and just at her fourteenth step into the library she turns left and it strikes him.
She wouldn't see what he's done. The alphabetical order he's put the books into, and the chair -which she has never sat on before- that he's fixed the other night. The spider. Everything.
Maybe she'd feel the breeze he felt last night when he opened the window. Maybe the dirt wouldn't bother her so much anymore when she's sat reading at the table.
Perhaps the rough books were smoother and the heavy novels have come to be lighter.
The sun fitting itself in between the window frame forming the most perfect eclipse of kind.
He smiles, rather a bitter one.
She closes the door and stays in for way too long.
-,-,-
Author's Note: That's a quick chapter. Longer chapters are coming, I think. Has any of the puzzles fallen into place?
Two questions:
*Why would Marsia not notice anything Jase has done to the room? That's an obvious one, but it helps those who have not caught it whilst reading, and learning the readers' interpretations helps the writer loads.
*Do you like this cover better?
YOU ARE READING
The Color Deaf
RandomA 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...
