She walked along the promenade, her face tear-stricken.
Her hair was up in a scruffy bun and there were bags under her eyes.
She hadn't slept since ages and the lack of rest was showing. Even after applying the concealer, she couldn't hide the pain bubbling inside her.
She stopped to look at a well-kept garden. The owner was sprinkling water over a bunch of flowers, which were painted in lavender.
She smiled.
Lavender was her name as well. It once used to describe her personality correctly: bubbly and full of excitement.
But now, that old personality had been mirrored by something dark and miserable.
She was alone, yet again.
***
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.
