ficlets100 - number seven.

[rawri]

001. Guilt
002. New
003.Solitude
004. Content
005. Tale

006. Distort
007. Luxury
008. Listen
009. Party
010. Scent

011. Storm
012. Lessons
013.Apology
014. Relief
015. Breeze

016.Fading
017. Passion
018. Stay
019.Rain
020. Within

021.Dread
022.Revenge
023.Time
024.Perfect
025.Eyes

026.Bloom
027.Beginning
028. Bath
029. Object
030. Lost

031.Pride
032. Death
033

Comments

air gear -> ⌈85.⌋ Paint.

[rawri]

Black was the color of the walls, of the air, of their suits. The computers were white, but when the scientists shut them down and left, they were black, too. Twining fingers and quiet smiles-if she was the sheep painted black by the others, he had had a whole vat of tar dumped on him. They all were nervous, but thoughts were void when one slept in the abyss, and his chest rose and fell just as steadily as hers.

Curled together, hair splayed out, they bumped noses and settled in-he opened his eyes to darkness and shut them to meet the same; the dim glow of floor lights only gave an underpainting of shading, tints and contrasts and layers, piled one on top of the other, black after grey after onyx.

She burrowed in closer, and he threaded his hands through her hair.

If he looked, he’d finally see something else. Dim pink, near white, but nothing at all like grey or black-and that was what made a masterpiece a masterpiece, the subtly in nothingness. When the light caught green, too, he held on tighter and promised never to look at any other art again.

She accepted the vow with a sleepy mummer and a wish to go back to sleep.