Her eyes were green.
No, not just green.
Emeralds, yet infinitely more precious.
Like the sea, though far more deep and turbulent.
Greener than freshly blossoming thyme or the scent of mown lawns in summer.
More intoxicating than the green of absynthe.
Greener than jealousy.
Greener than the grass on the other side.
They stared into the grey of me.
And I knew those eyes would never be mine.
Green.
Colour of greed, colour of money, mostly.
Apartheid is long gone, but the mind of the elders (my parents) still fondly rememeber that history where advancements were meaningful and plenty. A time where the "whites ruled the land" and "the country was better for it".
Completely oblivious to their historical visit I brought myself to watch news beside my father and had a stingy comment to make on the concerns of some Western Cape citizens that feel threatened by "the freedom of of all citizens to apply for jobs and be transfered across the country unconditionally". Sounds silly to...
Green.
Not particularly cosy and warm during dinner when all are bundled up on the sofas watching tv with the woes of work peering through the keyhole of the door tightly shut.
Nor tranquil and soothing in the morning as you slump through the pale blue bathroom with your body and mind working aggressively against the inevitable routine that will discharge all the energy you gained during last night's rest.
It conveys less about passion and adventure for love and life than the vivid red that somehow decided to reside the kitchen walls to remind everyone that your life mostly...
Powerful legs, legs charged by the spirit of youth, the longing to break free and simply run full pelt meaninglessly. These legs, this energy took her gambolling madly down to the bottom of Grandpa's garden to the summerhouse. Back at the town house, up his room was death, despair, disease and unbearable suffocating sadness and stifling stillness. Here outside was green; fresh wet green, distant roaring traffic - movement, life energy, freedom. Her lungs were full of cleaner cooler air and her hair pulled straight out behind her. Fresh air hair. She reached the summerhouse door and ran in.
'He's...