It was winter.
The land had been embraced by a soft, yet thick blanket of snow.
He had taken her hand in his and pulled her out of her miseries, carving their way to the frozen pond.
She thought that she was happy with him, but she knew that she felt numb from within.
The spark had vanished into the thin air. It had lost the sheen.
She gaped at the dull, white appearance of the late winter's moon.
Her eyes twinkled as she counted the stars in the sky.
Her hand was still clasped with his, yet she couldn't feel a thing.
Her knuckles were as white as the snow, and as dull as the moon.
***
YOU ARE READING
Colourless
Short StoryShe was broken. She was scarred. She fell victim to love. She wanted nothing more to come. Her life was drained of all the colour. And he never noticed. He moved on.
