Grey - A Short Story

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All is grey. Nothing but grey. Grey buses, grey people, grey roads, grey rain. My feet under me are grey, grey, grey. My head is grey.


Tap, tap, tap.


Only my footsteps fill my head.


What was that?? There is a flash of red. A red blanket made of wool, in a shop window. My heart wants it. Why can’t I have it?


I double back, enter the shop. The peal of a bell. The shopkeeper looks up. I exclaim, “How much is that blanket?” He seems stunned. “How much?!” “Well, it’s from England,” he says. “How much??” The pressure in my head is building. I must know this information. “It’s $312,” he says timidly.


312? Never... Why can I never have anything my heart truly desires? Why do I have to be satisfied with “what’s available,” “what I can afford,” “live within your means,” “be sensible”?


I turn from him without acknowledgment and move unseeing to the door.


Tap, tap, tap.

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