Six

The walls were grey. The street was grey. The sky was grey. Our suits were grey. Our shirts were white and pressed which only emphasized the grey. Grey is the only colour that can make white sad. Grey makes you scream for colour, real colour, not just brightness. We were all at lunch, standing. There is no tike during the day for savouring, and who would want to savour this?   I realized right there that I had made the wrong choice. My life was meaningless. I was in a tunnel, where the only purpose was to get from point A to point be.  That's why there was no colour, and no time to stop.  I had entered the cycle that never stops. It was too late to find passion life love art and ecstacy. I was a broker. Life is short, too short for second chances. I won't make it to dinner, I'll die before night falls. Unless I run, now!  Unless I run so fast and so far that I never see the core ever again.

I woke up, sweating a heavy but cool unscented sweat that only a child of age six could mustre. That's when I decided to cheat death. That's when I decided to search for more.

I'm sorry six year old me.