Gray

Endless days of gray. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen the sun. There was, of course, a brighter spot in the solid gray mass above her, but she hardly thought of it as sunshine. She knew, in her distant memory, that she had seen it once, as a little girl.

One morning she'd awoken very early, her sleep disturbed by a big spotlight heating up her bed. She'd rushed to her window, and saw a fierce white disk in the sky, which itself was a bold blue colour. She'd yelled for her mother, who came running, in fear of trouble. They had stood and watched for what felt like ages until the thick clouds overpowered the sun once more. Then they'd gone to the kitchen and had pancakes, and watched the news broadcasts about it all day, until a more interesting story pulled the focus.

That was more than 20 years ago now.