***
The first time I see her, she's sitting in the grass making daisy chains, singing All You Need Is Love loudly, her hair was silver still, but the rest of her remained a near riot of colour.
She smiles up at me as I join in, completely out of key, patting her hand on the ground next to her. I sit, resting my head on her shoulder.
"You know," she says.
"Hmm?"
"We no longer have any ending to worry about, just the middle."
We grin at each other simultaneously.
"Let's make the best of that then."
***
YOU ARE READING
A Rare Burst of Colour
Short Story"Autumn, after it has exploded into a brilliant range of colours, proceeds to suck all of them away until the spring, leaving a palette of variations of monochrome shades behind. It is in this weather that our souls colours are revealed and the res...
