Grey

It was a grey landscape. Grey buildings stretched along a grey street. Silver cars glided past, deadened with dust to a dull grey. Even the sky, hung low with clouds, was grey.

And the girl.

Grey suit, stiletto heels. Dark hair hanging heavy and lank, its black shine dull and listless. The colour was drained out of her, until she matched the landscape she walked through.

Blaring horns sounded at traffic lights, where every car raced to be the first home, the first back to a life they could only accept. And still she walked on, feet heavy and tripping, handbag heavy on one shoulder. The leather was creased and worn, and had a slight sheen to it, as though perhaps it was not quite as expensive as it looked.

Clarity. For one moment the sun found a way through the sky, so that for once the light was not filtered into monotones. With the light, the street seemed even duller in comparison. Then the moment was gone, and the light faded back to grey.

The girl looked up to the sky as the light flooded over her. One hand stretched into her handbag and pulled out an oversized pair of sunglasses. She slid them on, and as the light faded, she kept them on, and hid behind their bight reflective glare.

Across the street, I matched my pace with hers. My feet danced lightly over the grey squares of concrete. I tried to keep my eyes down, to stop my glance slipping sideways to search her face. She walked only metres away, but two lanes of traffic kept her world from mine.

At the traffic lights, she swung her head round over one shoulder and glared at the traffic fighting towards her. There was a pause, as the universe hesitated and tried to realign itself with her. As the world breathed in, she stepped across the road, and swung left. Behind her, traffic screamed across the road once more.

Following behind, I quickened my pace to the lights. Hesitating on the pedestrian walkways, I punched the button impatiently. Ahead of me, she carried on with her slow pilgrimage. The lights changed, and with it came an incessant beeping at me. I ran across the road.

Ahead, she stopped at the door to her flat. The keys in her hand shone with flecks of gold as she fitted them into the lock in the door before her. Suddenly she paused, and turned her head, so that her eyes could scan the street around her. One hand reached up, and pulled the sunglasses away from her face. Behind them, her eyes were dark and fearful. She looked past me, searching yet unseeing. For a moment our eyes met, hers nervous and darting, mine steady and possessive. Then she turned away, and the moment was gone.

Quickly she opened the door to her flat and hurried in. Behind her, I stood in the silent street, and remembered to breathe.