Grayed Out: A Small Tale

The day starts out miserable looking. The sky is a pale uniform gray that seems to leech the color out of the surrounding buildings and foliage. It is thick enough that I can't pinpoint the sun at all. No variation in the clouds to show they're even moving.

I perch on my chair by the window and spend a few hours reading. The time passes quickly. When I finish I get up to stretch and move a bit when I notice something. My pj's have become lighter in color, less vibrant. And the dark green cover of my book has developed streaks of gray. I look outside once more and notice that everything nearly blends with the grey that covers the sky. I consider this a moment and shut the blinds. I don't need my hardwood to lose its multi-stained look.

Tomorrow calls for sun. Hopefully I'll remember to put my book on the window ledge to return its green cover.

Drain: A Small Tale

While I was out walking along the pathway yesterday I saw a hole in the ocean. It was not a terribly big hole, but it was wide enough that I could see down. Farther down than what could be considered a normal depth.  I think it's a hole in the world, draining out into some star system in the universe. Or perhaps opening up into another section of the world and falling back down like a waterfall.