They say it never changes color in the sun, or shifts its tone in the moon. Seasons countless have come and gone, but nothing remains to mark them.
It’s been said that if you listen close, you can hear the echo of the dead. Of those things that have been lost, broken and beaten through the years. Many have come before, yet only shadows and craters mark any stead now. When darkness falls, the silent demons rattle their bones and shriek a muted nightmare.
But when I listen to the rhythm in her chest, I hear more than just the grey.
My entry for this week’s 100 Word Challenge from Julia’s Place. The challenge was but a single color “Grey”, which I don’t see much of these days. Yet I am focused on it, for beneath the grey, there are the warm colors of life, and the cold stings of pain.
And for those who were wondering where the heck I went…that is a long and interesting story. But I am honored that my readers have shown concern. And for that, I thank you.
I hope you all enjoy.