greyscale
we were two beings, suspended in the murky darkness. soft moonlight lent a ghostly lightness to the living room. our shadows were faded against the black, like two shadow puppets whose outlines were indistinct against a weak light source. there was a light breeze coming in from the open balcony windows. the fresh smell of midnight with a tinge of the morning to come.
she sat across from me, clutching the mug so tightly that her knuckles were whiter than a ghost's. her eyes were shaded in the dark, pale face surprisingly expressionless. hour old coffee, cold to the tongue. acidic and acerbic, lying silent and still in the cup like a starved, dead lizard carcass. same colour and taste.
we had an eternity to waste, with the moon and the stars as our judge and jury. a lack of colour and sound stretched the space time between us out, flattening it out like pizza dough and then hanging it over us, a cloud of yeast. the silence heavy, shades of the greyish night collapsing and swirling together like a dizzying black and white palette. my body refused to move. to be exact, I didn't know what to do. inaction compounded inaction. it had been weeks since we last saw each other, and that was to finish up the paperwork. after that, everything else was a blur. so much so that suddenly now, her face was foreign to me.
she shakily put down the cup. her hands looked much skinnier than before, especially without it. a little pinch, heart wasp buzzing around in my chest again. it stung again and again, agitated. wordlessly grabbing my pack of cigarettes, she got up and walked over to the balcony. without the wind making up for the quiet, my thoughts grew restless and loud. fractured memories blended in with my present and future. i closed my eyes.
allowing the tiredness to wash over me, i breathed
in her bitter tobacco smoke and felt the first tears come.