Story from 130912

writing story

published 1970-01-01 00:00

updated 1970-01-01 00:00

%date 130912 00:00

Michael worked long hours, in dark places. It was perpetual darkness where he went about his five days a week. Despite being a uncomfortable place to work in, his job required little of him. He wasn't a college graduate, and never did have a very strong work ethic. In fact, on most days, he'd only sit on a chair, alone. For what he did, it paid well. When Michael wasn't working he was enjoying the company of his few friends, who often gathered for drinks on the weekend or watching television. He liked the television. It often allowed an escape from his regular routine. He liked the colors most of all. All the reds, and blues, and some of the greens were okay too. He liked the colors mainly because the white of his walls never conveyed any emotions like the colors did. They didn't speak to him, like red said Anger, or blue said Sad. White was always queit. Michael didn't like the queit. He didn't like it at all. Outside his White walls, stood four people in white jackets, one of them had a pair of glasses, in silence, watching.