Greyscale
She inhabits an empty barren world, filled with vibrant greens which ripple into rust and violet and corn and maroon, and bright sunshine that reflects starlight on the wrinkling water, the cosmos captured in a wave, a star caught in a droplet. The daffodils on the bank, swaying in the breeze flowing down from the mountains, blown forth by Zephyrus, perched of the pass between mighty peaks, snow-capped in winter, attainable by those who dare to test their skills, and return fulfilled, a story to tell to all they meet when they return Home. For those who may leave, it is a dream, a glorious paradise, an Eden. She walks along the grassy banks, sees the daffodils and the waves and the sky, mottled with clouds like clumps of flour not yet folded into cake batter, which she cooks mindlessly and eats the tastelessness mindlessly for something to take her mind off the fact that she lives in a world of colour and all she sees is grey.by Amy Hodkin
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