The end of grey

My effort at the most recent Endever writing challenge, the prompt for which was:

Write about blue without using the word ‘color’.

(381 words)

Grey skies.

A reflection of Daniel’s monochrome existence.

The wind tried its best to push him back, but nothing would stop him today. Bowing his head and putting his hands up in front of his face, he forced his way along the beach. Half closing his eyes as sand danced and jumped in every direction, he kept his focus directly ahead. His whole body felt heavy, mirroring the weight of everything mental he carried. Emotion. Memories. Experiences. Loss.
A single black bird flew above him, like a vulture circling its prey. Rain slapped his face and darkened his clothes. This is the end, he told himself.
The crooked path to the right didn’t warmly invite passers-by, but it was the only route out. Where it went, Daniel had no idea, but he wasn’t turning back. Back to the family he didn’t have. Back to the dead-end job. Back to the city that moved faster than he could think. Back definitely wasn’t an option.
The path narrowed as plant-life thickened on either side, becoming a darkened tunnel. But light at the end poured through. Somehow the wind snuck in and redoubled its efforts to stop Daniel. He clenched his fists and teeth at the same time. He shook himself. The path was perfectly straight, making it hard to tell how far away that light was. Daniel lost track of how long he walked. It didn’t matter really. He wasn’t going to stop until he met the light face to face. This is the end of grey. He told himself.

And then he was there. At the end of the tunnel. In a moment, the wind stopped. Completely.
And with it the weight of the past seemed to fall from Daniel’s shoulders. He’d made it. He stepped out of the tunnel of foliage.

Blue skies.

A reflection of the new beginning.
Never had blue meant so much. Never had it represented such positivity.

Daniel stepped onto the lush green grass. It welcomed him along with the warm sun which stroked his face. Everything about his new home suggested improvement; fulfilment; happiness.

He turned back to look at the tunnel from which he’d emerged, but it wasn’t there. Why would it be? Nothing from there was here. And that’s what made it so perfect.

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6 thoughts on “The end of grey

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  1. Pingback: “Prompted” Turnout #1 (Community Writing Challenge) – Endever Publishing Studios

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