mezzafredda

Heavy, controlling silence blanketed itself, completely suffocating the whole of the house, its glorified white paint seeming brighter than usual-despite the thick overcast of smokey grey dimming everything, including the man's usually joyous persona. Hadn't it only been a few days ago? That neck-and-neck sprint to victory seemed like it had flown past him, as if only seconds. His dark eyes fixated beyond the intricate wooden monstrosity of a desk he was sitting at to the floor beyond. His mind relapsed, for the nth time, all those moments he had let go of, freely allowing the red - or blue - ribbon of those potentially beautiful moments fly