One Thousand Word Challenge 150: Grey, Grey Day

It was a grey, grey day.

The sky was dull and its subdued light made for a match of the rigid structures and colourless layout of the city. Rain was heavy and the streets were quiet. They preferred days such as these, though unfortunately they could not take it all in for there was a walk to attend to and perhaps there would be the need to deal with business. It was a work day but it was not a fun work day, though work was seldom, if ever, fun.

They still were able to conduct their walk and remain relatively dry. They were prepared; they’d done this many a time and new that it’d be better to stay dry, for the inconvenience of dealing with wet clothes in a business setting was not one that made for a comfortable experience.

For now the streets were theirs. There were a few people moving about here and there, and some staying under awnings, hoping the rain would end before they reached a point where they felt it better to try and run through to wherever they needed to go. Unfortunately for them they would end up running, for the rain was not going to let up on this particular day.

The rain itself remained heavy, beating and striking upon solid surfaces, filling gutters with small, quick-moving streams. Few places it would pool up, creating another obstacle to navigate, and the city seemed to be caught in a faded glow in spots. Sometimes the brightness in the sky seemed so much more than it actually was, but perhaps that was due to the surfaces of the city becoming much more reflective than usual.

Traffic too was low and this was much appreciated, for the streets were emptier. Still, not as empty as desired, but empty enough at the least. Traffic was trying to get out of the city and into the suburban surrounds, and it may have been seen as a noble endeavour had the traffic not seemed so in a rush. A slow rush, but a rush nonetheless.

They walked through the main drags of the city and listened to the sound of the rain, almost deafening yet somehow quiet. They eventually turned away and went down an alley, then down an incline. They were looking for water, even though they were surrounded by it.

There was a desire to try and look out over the harbour from some sort of vantage point and let the drama and the quiet of the scene overcome them, or at least get something close to that. They didn’t have to worry about work at this particular moment, though they eventually would; this was their time and they were trying to expend it in the way they felt was best for them. It was a good thing that they knew the way and so they were able to move a little faster, though still seemingly in a relaxed manner. Their walk was quick, yet it lacked all the rigidity an accelerated pace usually carries.

They continued on and followed the footpath into a small, dry space, though only partially, for the space was only partially sealed. At the end an escalator and they were back on a wider ground, still surrounded by tall buildings, though slightly less imposing than the clustering closer to the main roads. Cafés were open and few people were in them, for few wanted to walk through the rain to get consumables. Some people were standing outside, smoking, waiting for their takeaway coffee before they would hurry off to wherever they felt they needed to be, but otherwise few people were outside. It seemed to be getting quieter and so space was less of a premium, though definitely not something to be taken for granted.

Once they were out of the cluster of buildings and facing the water they changed direction. Following the outside edge of the building clusters they headed toward nearby parkland, hoping that that too would be mostly, if not completely empty. The parkland had little coverage that was useful for people and so this hope was not one that was a desperate one; it was backed by confidence and understanding in how the area was approached in this kind of weather, for they had been there plenty of times in the rain and they had seen few people around.

It was an area that seemed detached from the city, yet wholly a part. After a while it became readily apparent as to how it was just an extension of the city and its grasp and not a pocket cut off from corporate hands. Still, even if illusory, it offered a suggestion of a break and that was a nice kind of illusion to have. It made it easier to forget about the extended region.

They reached this small pocket and found their spot past sandstone and at a curve. They were able to look out and remain mostly dry, even as the rain fell with weight into the harbour and onto the parkland. The waves seemed numerous and almost overwhelming in their number, and yet the harbour seemed possessed by still noise. The easiest description of the scene was picturesque. Even though it was grey and dull and wet and what some would consider miserable, it still had a quality to it that made it appealing, but only at certain times and only when in certain moods.

Toward and through this they started, trying to absorb it all, but once more they found themselves lost in thought, letting the rainfall move their thoughts inward as they thought about the various things they’d experienced in their time, though their time had yet to be anything other than short, for there were many long years ahead of them. Still, they could not help but think about what had been achieved and what hadn’t, and so, in staring out, all they could do at that time was think about themselves.

The time it took to write one thousand words: 17:38:70

Slow. I spent a bit of time thinking about what I was writing.
Kind of paid off, kind of didn’t.

Written at home.

About Stupidity Hole

I'm some guy that does stuff. Hoping to one day fill the internet with enough insane ramblings to impress a cannibal rat ship. I do more than I probably should. I have a page called MS Paint Masterpieces that you may be interested in checking out. I also co-run Culture Eater, an online zine for covering the arts among other things. We're on Patreon!
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