Shades of Gray

The doctor said, "Your condition is quite rare. You'll have to wear these rose-colored lenses."

(true story.)

"My whole life?" she asked, barely concealing the concern in her voice.

He rested his hand softly on her shoulder. "I'm afraid so, dear. It's simply the only way you will see. You'll find it's not so bad."

And so she did.

She selected a pair of simple, old horn-rimmed glasses that suited her very well.

And all around her, things changed.

Maybe it was the way people would mirror her expression and squint a little more when around her. Some say this was because the sun shone a bit brighter on her and they wanted it to do the same for them.

Maybe it was the way the way they felt like they had aged a year in an afternoon and didn't mind one bit. Some say this was because your face stretched and ached and wrinkled from smiling just a bit more.

Maybe it was the extra colors in the sky, frustrating because they didn't even have names yet.

It didn't really matter.

People were happier and they didn't even understand why. All because of those lenses she wore.

Things can't always have a neat ending though.

You see, for all the smiles and squints and colors, oh the colors, she couldn't really find happiness in it.

Because, when she looked at herself through those lenses, all she could see were shades of gray.