Fading Colors

"Hey Mr. Harris," I say, giving a smile and a wave to the old man.
"Hello," he grumbles, "I heard you and the Perkinson's cousin got together."
"Yeah, she's the one. I can see color now," I beam brightly.
The old man drops his broom and grabs me by the collar. He brings me down to his height. His breath reeks of bitter coffee. His teeth are a golden yellow, a few rotted black, and even more missing. "You listen to me, don't ever let her go! You must love and cherish her as long as you can!" he screams in my face, spit flying out of his mouth. He releases me and shakily bends over. He picks up his broom and slowly starts sweeping again.

Inspired off a Tumblr writing prompt