Grey Novels & Stories

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Grief stricken that I have to go. Braxton puts his arm around me and holds me close, his face in my hair. He holds me like that for a long moment, breathing me in as I inhale the scents of the garden around us. A butterfly whispers by on a breeze, it’s blue and black wings catching the sunlight and giving it a twinkle. A few more in various sizes and colors follow. To be that free, like the butterflies or the birds, to take off and fly wherever I want… any time I want… wouldn’t that be heavenly?

She gently tilted the face towards her, but what she met with shocked her to the core. He had light brown hair; the colour of whiskey-on-ice which was fitting since even your first encounter with him was enough to find yourself intoxicated. The colour of fallen leaves, browning with the last rains of Autumns, reminding you that this was the end of a season. His eyes were unseeing but remained slightly ajar revealing tiny flecks of hazel intermingled within his grey eyes. The kind of grey that resembled the lead of a pencil, which was fitting because he had that ability to empower you, to help you with your sense of direction and

Jasmina said she understood that and asked her to say what she actually thought anyway. Sable said what she actually thought was that the color register Kira used for people with mismatched interiors, the amber-brown and the dark red and their variations, had a quality she'd been thinking of as a warning register, not a judgment, not a declaration, but a flagging, the way a body might run a temperature in response to something that needed attention. She said what struck her about the pale blue was that it had a completely different quality from that register, it had been soft and brief and had not come with the sustained intensity that characterized the amber-brown or especially the dark red

"Excuse me?" She slowly came forward and I noticed her eyes were a green, almost the same shade as mine. She lifted her hands to her mouth, tears filled her eyes and I noticed she was shaking. I glanced confusedly at Amaya to find her glaring at the small woman in front of us.

My hand shook as I pinned back my curl, I had developed such a bad tremor in the last years- perhaps due to my illness, or the countless medications I have to take due to it. Triston's voice cut through the silence of the bathroom, "What color are you wearing tonight?" I turned my head up,

I know I was just trying to be a dummy and refusing the reality that was right in front of me, but this man here… it could only be HIM. “Can I see it?” He said softly, his eyes still fixed on me. My breath hitched when I made out the color. Gray. A very interesting hue that had my lips parting. He cocked his eyebrow when I didn't respond, then tilted his head to the side, patiently waiting for me to decide.

I wondered If they urinated only after his order? I shook away their thoughts and walked down the hallway. My eyes caught my reflection in the mirror on the wall. I wore a green dress that had a pearly neckline and reached just above my thighs. Never had I ever worn such an expensive dress in my entire lifetime. Mary chose this dress because she said it matched my eye color.

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Daisy still kept silent, calm as if nothing had happened. Dash’s head was like mud, he couldn’t remember anything. He quickly rushed into the bathroom and poured cold water on his head. A few blurry, fragmented images exist in memory. To stop Daisy's annoying crying. Dash sees Daisy as nothing more than a stuffed animal. Cover her nose, pinch her cheeks, spread her mouth, strangle. Being bothered too much. Daisy also reacted a bit. Mumbling something, she turned over and leaned in the other direction, continuing to sleep.