I never felt so heavy, like dread is all over me.

We were walking, both from different directions. Our eyes met, brimming with questions. We haven't talked. Since that closure that isn't a closure at all.

Sometimes I wanted to believe that the world would be a canvas. A seemingly endless canvas of erasable mistakes when that hue doesn't blend with the previous color I wanted. Like us, I was blue, he was red. The enormity of an us is as hideous as it is.

What more so if we collide.

But did we ever clash?  Or was it a mere tint, did our colors smudge the perfect pristine condition of the canvas society deemed of what's truly an art?

Is art confined to one single perception of a person?

No.

No?

Like us, was the point of view of love only seen by a mere blink of an eye? Like how it has been.

So fast and blurry we never knew how it ended the moment we were even just starting.

•••

Hi!  Soo it's a prank!  I don't feel like ending this yet. Alsooo, please don't be a silent reader and vote ! Click the star button below every chapter 😊

Stay with Zen and her story.

It's not the ending just yet.