Note – Grey is the story closest to my heart from Albatross…. because Grey is a part of me. While all the other short stories are pure fiction, this one is based on some of my childhood memories. It’s a personal touch, a glimpse of nostalgia, a part of me that I wanted to share with my readers. It’s also the story that sparked this book, the one I was referring to when sharing what started this particular writing project.
It wasn’t bad. It was happy. It was life. We were children and we were never told grey was supposed to be bad. Grey was childhood. Grey was us in our purest form. We never denied it and we never minded it, because we never knew it.
We became grey those lazy, endless summer afternoons. The adults saw us turning grey, but they didn’t mind it either. It was the normal course of life and our greys were still those careless, joyous shades dripping from the laughter of happy, innocent children. We crawled on the burning asphalt of alleys deserted in the middle of scorching afternoons. But it didn’t hurt our knees or palms as we endeavoured to draw hopscotch lines or perhaps even attempt a shape that could be imbued with the contents of our dreams, our imagination getting the best of us.
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