a grueling week had past since the night he talked to phil. he had told the other people who seemed to care for dan and they made sure phil knew he had done wrong. dan continued as though phil never existed, and did everything he normally did, with the expection of changing so openly.
everyday after lessons, when he had spare time between them and dinner, dan sat outside in the sorry excuse for a playground. the garden, although neatly trimmed, lacked colour and brightness. it lacked the serenity gardens usually have by its simple plants - trees, a few hedges and grass.
dan would lie down in the soft grass and watch the clouds and listen to the whispering trees.
but one afternoon, exactly a week and one day since the "incident", dan couldnt find his usual peace and became restless and irritable. he changed positions on the grass many times before huffing and sitting on the swingset that had probably on just past the bare minimum in health and safety checks.
dan looked at the garden and longed to see sething other than green and blue. he wanted to see the colours of his vase spread throughout the garden for other people to enjoy.
dan had suddenly realised what might give him a feeling of comfort in this boring and sluggish place.
