She was like a colorless glass, you could see everything through but had no pigment.
She had grown up like this, never seeing the true nuance of things.
She imagined it, but she could always and only distinguish white and black.
Imagine being able to allow you to dream, I said, anything as long as it is made of colors.
She moved in the dark, certain of her way and not needing anyone, she fell every 100 steps hoping deep to find someone who would show her how beautiful it was out there.
However, only a pink ray, a pale pink, passed through this colorless glass, recognized it and accepted it.
It was at the end of that darkness that she traveled, like a goal she would reach by finally opening her eyes and letting herself be guided by those she loved.