One of those posts where everything wants to be in black and white and i take on the persona of a lonesome novel writer

There was someone following him the whole day. As he crossed the busy street, heat emanating from the tar road beneath his feet, someone brushed his shoulder. He stumbled slightly and continued on, racing to his next event.

The speech she gave at her former high school was a welcoming relief to the students who looked like living zombies, a sign of sleepless long nights due to a variety of reasons: heartache, preparation for exams, late night outings, family misunderstandings and the typical case of insomnia. Her first step outside the school hall was intercepted by someone-and she could not see who it was, as students had already started miling all about the area.

Music blared loudly from the speakers standing on the walkway. The relatively heavy traffic contributed to the sound pollution and caused an angry businessman walking out of a shop to shout profanities to the air, cursing the petrol price, the traffic jam and global warming. Some people, like the security guard a few feet behind him, might have believed that he was going to start an hour long tirade on the political arena.

Rain started pouring down heavily after lunch hour that Monday. What a way to start the week, she thought. She recalled the last things she saw yesterday night: dishes are piling up in the kitchen sink. The toilet tap refused to stop dripping. Laundry waiting to be dried lay in the washing machine and library-loaned books way past their due date collect dust on the tabletop. She sneezed for the umpteenth time that day and reached out of her bed for a tissue paper. Instead, her fingers found his hand, and she could see that he was already awake. Looking around the room, she could see clothes hung on hangers which have found their place around the bedroom; as far as she could hear, the toilet tap wasn't leaking anymore; the library books no longer occupied her study table; and just when you thought it couldn't get any better: "The dishes have been washed. Now get up and eat some breakfast," The rain was still falling.

Her eyes were still puffy from all that waterworks the night before. Her breath filled the small space under her comforter, but she forced herself to stay down there as long as she could: if I don't see the world, the world won't see me, she thought. Then the familiar ringtone filled the air around her: "What is this feeling taking over? Thinking no one could open my door-" she is retro like that. She answered the call. "WAKE UP WOMAN! WE'RE GOING TO HIT THE BEACH TODAY! WE'RE OUTSIDE YOUR HOUSE ALREADY SO OPEN UP AND LET US IN!" Break up? What break up?