The steady drip of rain from the eaves of the roof awakens you in the silent dawn. The sun on the horizon feebly tries to break through the smothering clouds.
The grim weather matches your foul humor: Monday morning. An ominous stillness lingers in the air, threatening the return of the hazy, drawn-out drizzle that muffled the neighborhood the night before. A sheen of fog clings greedily to your windowpane, begging for the chance to pervade your warm bedroom.
The weak sun is no match for the steely sky and the oppressive blanket of slate clouds. They repress the light with relish, dimming the scenery below in a way that makes you want to stay inside. And do nothing. The world past your window is bleak, boring, and lazy.
As you drive to work, your headlights pierce aggressively through the dense fog, the beams of light lingering hopefully for a few moments before being swallowed up by the hungry, low-hanging fog. Everything around you is a blurred, washed-out mockery of the truth. You too are swallowed up in the monotony of the day and become just another shade of this colour in your own right.
YOU ARE READING
Colour My World
DiversosThis is a collection of essays I wrote based on a tumblr post I once saw. Each colour was posed to my tumblr followers and Facebook friends as a writing challenge which included a "taboo list". The challenge was to describe each colour in its turn w...
