Grey.

The world is grey today.

The sky, so vast and endless, is darkened with ominous stretches of rain tinted clouds.

Holding its breath.

The world is holding its breath.

And the rain, locked loosely in those clouds, is waiting.

It is a strange type of day.

I can feel the hesitation in the air.

The raindrops are hesitating, waiting for the perfect moment to fall free.

And the world seems to be drifting...

Caught....

Caught in that strange grey space between black and white, dark and light.

And I myself, sitting here in the darkness, staring quietly out of this cobwebbed window, am waiting too.

Waiting for the color in my eyes.

For the breath on my lips.

For the light, that enticingly pure light...

Waiting for it all to come again.

I wait for you.

I wait so that I can see that beautiful innocence once again.

You fascinate me.

You eyes, so blue and so intoxicatingly honest...

Those blonde locks, mussed and so perfectly wild with the hues of the golden sunlight...

And your skin, flawless and softly tanned, always radiating under the warmly loving fingers of the sun.

I spend every hour of my endless days toiling in my impatience, waiting for you, silently fearing that you won't return.

But you always do.

And though I have never spoken to you, and though you have never seen me before...

I cherish your presence.

I love to watch you sit amongst the overgrown reeds, backpack slung lazily beside you as you sit alone, sometimes doing homework, other times just laying in silence, forgetting the world for at least a few delicate moments, so entranced with the perfect blue of the sky.

But as I said before, today the world is grey.

The brilliant colors adorning nature's sweet face have faded with the usual vibrance of the sun, gentle beams of light thin and strange as they struggle through the thick layer of hesitant rain clouds.

And I'm beginning to wonder if you'll really come back today.

Would you dare?

Would you really choose to wander beneath these fickle clouds?

A resigned sigh slips past my chilled lips and just as I make a move to turn away I see you.

I chuckle lightly then, watching through the dusty window as you drift through the sweeping branches of the weeping willows, an angel, my angel, so innocently beautiful with that golden hair and those perfect blue eyes...

I don't even know your name.

And yet...

I adore you.


---TO BE CONTINUED---