[ WP ] A man/woman is grayscale color blind . S/he can see individuals in full color when they are having either the best or worst days of their lives .

The overcast settled aloft the skyline perfectly. My favorite days, right after a solid storm. Light rays break off all the tiny puddles and raindrops, resting where they landed. I walked down the street clad in my usual disguise, hood draped over my eyes, trench coat wrapped tightly around my body. The last thing I wanted was attention. I silently inched my way through crowds. I spend my days desperately searching for one thing. Today on a day of dreary, vibrant overcast, I was seeking out that particular something. Not everything is black and white, we live in a world filled with more than just matter, rock, and nothingness. We live in a world filled with emotion, and feelings. We feel everything around us. So much that our bodies filter so much away from us. The feeling of loose lint on a bed sheet, the tightness of your coat, the way your hair lays on your head, and then there are the amount of sounds that are filtered from your mind. It is just, indescribable. 
 
 I listed quietly through the park, observing what I could. Then I spotted it. Two, directly ahead. I could almost feel it. The slow building tension. A first date perhaps? I craved to see that man's thoughts, to feel that exact moment. His right hand listed upward slowly, shaking, hesitant. Butterflies would be how he described it. Then, almost on accident, there it is. Contact. That fiery moment of release. That was the moment it all started. 
 
 I followed them home. There it was, they stood at the stoop, she had this incredible grin, he babbled over words, both stared awkwardly at each other limbs. Not daring to make direct eye contact. Minutes past, life dragged closer to infinity. Would I see that awkward first kiss? No. No. NO! I acted on impulse, charging as fast as I could, I swiped a her handbag from her soft grasp. 
 
 I charged down the street as hard as I could. Beauty of being a Wraith, the rules do n't apply. Be a hero, be a hero. I eyed behind me, and there was a glorious knight in shining armor. Perfect. I `` tripped'' dropped that clutch and rolled forward. The gentleman swiped the handbag and yelled in my direction. I wish I could have heard what he said. I heard just a gray blot of sound. 
 
 I waited a few moments. I slipped back into range. She looked so sure of herself, that look when you know that something has sparked. His hand trembled back upward with clutch. She gently reached forward clasping it with one hand, and placing her hand softly on his. Then, that moment I've waited for, eye contact. Love. It's not as gentle as you might think. An explosion is the most accurate description. An instant connection is made, and all walls of hesitation and fear crumble away, like night and day, black and white. He has never stood straighter, never felt so sure in his life. His hands release the bag, slowly move down her wrist, onto her arms. She seemed so defenseless, but had never felt safer in her life. Closer they inched. Eyes still locked. The kiss. Suddenly I could see it all perfectly for the first time, she was in the most stunning sundress. Tight along the waist, pure white with a light purple floral pattern. She dropped the hard fought purple clutch. The white of her dress is only broken by a light black leather jacket, his of course. He stool tall, black polo, the shiniest silver belt buckle known to man. Shoes polished so well it makes the nicest mirror appear blurry. They brought balance to overcast, the color only amplified off all wetness of the passing storm. In the blackest of times a small light leads me through darkness. Seeing it in color, just for that moment, gives me the life to keep going.
