#165

i've never seen her smile. she barely lifts her head up, peeks out from under those lashes, and it just kills me how sad she is.
but she's good at her job.
she's good at mystery too. gray. always gray shoes, gray sweaters. gray eyes, the one time i saw them. she doesn't believe in absolutes.
tomorrow she's getting flowers at work. i want her to know that even if you can't see the world in black and white, a foggy gray haze isn't the only alternative.