Random Imaginative stories

Black and White

Black and white. That is the new normal. The world we once had as children gone, just as the wind blows away fallen leaves. Swept up in a pile and thrown away like it is no longer needed. Can anyone tell the difference between black and white anymore? What about the small one at your feet? Are they the only one left that sees the value in what our world used to be?
Colour. Colour once was apart of us, the blossoms of colour run along beside us on the path of life. Streets, roads and lanes filled with light. Rows of gardens blooming with bright flowers dancing in the winds. The gardens made together filled to the brim with fluorescent green foliage, sweet-smelling scents and the sound of buzzing bees. The colour exploding as wax and thought reach paper while lying on the grass watching the birds fly by. Growing from a small thought to an exploding idea. Pages full of colour along the walls and shelves of what we would call home, depicting the life shared as a whole.
Falling. The constant feeling of falling. All of the people who once were together now fell apart. The joyful sound of laughter throughout the streets once filling the space, is now a whisper in the wind blowing past abandoned windows. All fighting and yelling will do is drain all of ones resolve away leaving a person bare as their masks lay crumbled and decayed at their feet. Yelling echoes through the walls hitting the ears of those too young to know what is going on. Why should they bare witness to the fall when they can hear it bouncing off the walls?
Past. Those images of home have receded far back into the mind covered in darkness. Far far away in the past are the memories of what was torn away, never to be seen in the light again. Only flashes of memory make it past the locks and barriers placed to keep away the pain. Separation tearing away the comfort felt with the silence. Replaced by the metallic glare of steel and the feeling of confinement as loud sounds pierce your ears despite trying to block it all out.
Black and white. That is the new normal. All one can do now is watch as the colour that was once stuck to the walls of a familiar home now become plastered on the sides of looming buildings. Trouble stuck with those who fought for their world and now they fight as if they have no other choice. All of this trouble and pain just to be heard, to be released from the prison of black and white and return to what once was. The painted colour drips down the walls, flowing and mixing into a dark mess of what once was beauty and runs down into the storm drains. Leaving the city bare, only to see walls of glass and concrete as we walk by on the path of life.

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