The Grey

The grey ground.

The grey bones, pressed down into the earth. The grey powder from the grey bones. So many grey bones. So much grey dust. So much grey.

The grey goes into your eyes, your ears, your nose, your mouth. It gets into you, like air. But it isn't air. It isn't life.

It does not cause death. It is death. It even tastes like death.

The bones themselves are harmless.

The dust does nothing.

But the grey hurts. Oh, does it hurt.

It is the grey of death. The grey of despair. Of hopelessness. It eats away at you from the inside.

There is nothing but grey in this living death. Nothing. There are no cities. There is no grass. There is no sky. Just a desolate plain, with nothing but grey. A chalkboard covered in grey chalk. No room for anything in the chalk smears. No room for life. No room for beauty.

Ha. Beauty. The word itself means nothing to us. Not here. Not in this grey hell.

But love…

Love is a different word. An old word, an archaic word, a rich word, like beauty.

Love survived, though.

And love, unlike beauty, I know.

I love Sarah Connor.

It feels strange to say. I can taste it, on my tongue. It tastes nothing like the grey. It tastes like life. It coats my tongue, and stays there. When it is there, I forget what the grey tastes like.

How can one little word erase a color from my mind, when that color is my world?

The past is so full of color.

The road is grey, but not the grey.

I can breathe, and not taste death.

It isn't here. The grey isn't here.

Not yet.

Here when there is life, here when there is beauty, here when there is love…

There is blue sky.

There is green grass.

Here I am.

And there she is.

I smell green.

I taste life.

Hiya! I hope you enjoyed reading. Feel free to follow, favorite, review, read again, check out my other stories, whatever makes you happy! If you want a follow up chapter to this, don't hesitate to ask.

As always, thanks for reading, and stay awesome!

-D. Runes