Read Edelweiss :: Chapter 1

The grey was a color declining itself in many shades. The grey was the most insignifiant and depressing color that could exist. However, it was magical, it was a color which was beautiful and unique if you took time to think of it. If you took time to concentrate on its design. If, in a moment of boredom, when your thoughts collided, you started to think about grey, because for some reason it will become strangely very interesting to you. Grey was the mixture of black and white. Compared to any color, it was the only one resulting from a mixture of two special colors. Grey was a harmonious and perfect mixture between these two colors. Take the color blue and add black or white to it, you would notice that the blue color will always dominate on the added color. Blue will be eighty percent of the new color. Whereas in grey, there were as much black as there was white. Then, by thinking of that, grey was the middle of everything because it was the balance between black and white. It was the center of the Yin and the Young, a chessboard. It was invisible or not and yet it was there, because it allowed a balance between light and darkness. And when the sky was sprinkled with grey clouds, was it a line between a black stormy sky or the sky dazzled by the white sunbeams? Was it the line that separated bad weather and good weather? Was grey, as you described it, the color of monotony? Could you consider it in such a way now that you knew that it was more than you expected? Was there anything else in grey than a perfect shade between two neutral colors? If so, why no one cared about this color? Why did it remain so useless? Surely because the neutrality was too typical and not extraordinary enough. While it was its ordinary side that made it meaningful and incredible.

If you turned your head to the right or to the left what would you see? Would you continue to see that grey color or the landscape would change? If your eyes were closed, what would you see behind your eyelids? Would there be the dark of the void or would you see small movies coming from your memories being projected? If that was the case, what would you see? Having a small idea of it was certainly the most normal thing you could have. Because the breeze caressing your face, your arm hanging above the emptiness, your fingers moving in the fine threads of the wind, your spread and tangled hair creating a soft pillow under your head were just details. There was plenty to think about once you close your eyes, like remembering. Seeing yourself burst out laughing and hearing someone else or more people laughing at the same time as you, in unison, as if nothing else existed around you. As if the world had stopped turning for a moment, just to allow time for your brain to memorise that event, to store it as a happy and fulfilling memory. Or remember a moment of truth, pain, tears, heavy sadness, what would happen? Would you let that memory make your day a bad one? Remember that unpleasant memory that you had so many times wanted to delete, erase, remove from your life unsuccessfully. Remember that memory filled with doubts, fears, despair. Remember that without ever opening your eyes, because it was surely the most authentic thing that you have ever lived and survived. Take a moment to remember all those moments, all those dreadful and beautiful pictures, all those things you had in your head and that created your world, your imagination, your vision of reality, your own life.

Here and there, lying down, sitting, or standing, outside or inside, no matter where you were today, whether the grey color was unique and whether you should be a little more interested in it or that bad thoughts filled your mind, or else that the happy memories drew a big smile on your lips; tomorrow or yesterday, it did not matter, it was here, now, in the rain, the sun, the snow that everything took place. Here, where the portals of death and life were appended and said to you that every chance you took, every step you made, every action could keep you on earth or take you beyond clouds. Those portals showed you that yesterday was nothing and that tomorrow was too far to worry about it.

So, looking to the left where the wind caressed the fingers, where an arm hung above the emptiness, where the gaze met the black tar of the road, there was nothing more that existed. The portal of death was so close to that of life, that it merged with the latter. A movement and everything could end. Yesterday would become a regretted day and tomorrow a desire untasted. Today would be nothing. There would be no name, no place, no time, no more who. Today would become a blank page, the last one of a book on which the writer would not have found the words, the moments to write on it because time was up already and the hourglass had ended up being empty. The history had marked its final point. Today, between yesterday and tomorrow, between before and after, between never and always, you had the choice to shut a door or to open another one. To walk away from the portal of the eternal life or to walk through it. Today, on the left, the wind could carry that body far off or follow its route.

The cloudy sky above that head, the cold concrete under that body, the monotony of life, all of this did not matter. Having the eyes closed as well. There was no need to have a black background to hear those laughter. They echoed in those ears. And the smile, a sincere smile, did not risk to disappear. All those little things so pointless and microscopic that not a lot of people paid attention to, were so important for that person. They appreciated the grey of the sky, which did not burn their eyes and which did not scare them. The cold of the stone brought them back to reality when the dream was too intense. Laughter in their ears, similar to mirages, were certainly the most beautiful melody to accompany them in their loneliness.

You did not need much when you had fun with death and when you wished it so much that it did not scare you anymore. You needed nothing else when waiting for the Reaper was becoming a countdown.

You only needed yourself when you knew that Death was lying down just next to you, smiling at you as if it had already welcomed you into its arms. Smiling at you like an old friend that you had lost sight of.

This content is intended for mature audiences for the following reasons.