Blue Turning Grey

With summer, came the extravagant change in colors. The normal grays that seemed to dominate the sky led way to heavenly blues; the sunrises and sunsets were picturesque to say the least.

Chris drove the same stretch of interstate as he always had, leading to the same quiet secluded meadow that was just right off the beaten path. He had always gone here to clear his head, hoping to find some epiphany mapped out in the pond’s ripples, or the trees melodic movement, as if some divine connection to the nature he admired so dearly would present itself.

He sat at the bank of the pond, tossing stones into the tiny sea—there was no effect, he felt nothing. It was an uncomfortable numb, a terrifying lack of emotion. He had entered an awkward transitional state, where his emotions were passed the point of exhaustion that all he had left was an eerie state of regret, but it wasn’t enough for him to even dwell on.