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The Gray

Today.

The world.
Was.
Gray.
Why was the world gray?
I don't know. I would tell you if I knew. But I don't. It just was.

I have learned to accept such things.
Sometimes the dome holds all the beauty of a thousand muses.
Sometimes it is gray.
I often find such days sad. As if the world wishes to hide under a blanket of gray. Alone. More than anything, however, on days like this it feels like the world stands still. Though the Earth forever moves and the days forever pass. Sometimes it feels like the Earth stands still. And so it is on days like this. Under the gray sky, it feels as though a moment lasts forever. Memories call from the back of my mind and I hold each of them.
As recollection fills my head, I walk. I think. I watch the world stand still though cars race by and airplanes fly overhead. I always hear the airplanes. Always, when the sky is gray,
 While I walk and watch the world seems unable to hold back its sadness any longer. From under its covers, its tears begin to fall. Even the world cries sometimes. I feel its tears fall on my shoulders. I see them splattered on the floor.
I often wonder why. When someone cries. They wish for a shoulder to cry on but when the world cries they shield the tears away.

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