The world was grey, grey eyes, are skins, grey souls.
The world was just like a stone, if you fell, you broke. But then there was her, everything in her was grey, except from her eyes, as blue as the sky, as fierce as the sea. When she fell she still broke, but in each cleft a little flower grew.
Ironically, the more broken she was, the prettier was the world. She loved so much the beauty she created she wouldn't mind breaking, even if it meant breath taking pain.
Eventually someone fell for her, her flowers, all her colors. Her love was so true, so pure, that trying to create a whole garden for him to admire she ended up vanishing, leaving white petals, pale leaves and traslucid teardrops behind. As there warmth inside the rock cooled, the colors faded away, leaving the world all grey again.
-Kath. B
History inspired by Natalia Garces' drawing.
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| Natalia signing her drawing, nameless. |
