C58 Chapter 57

Black.

I started swirling black paint on my canvas. Allowing it to drip its own pattern down, taking shape, like it had a mind of its own.

This color described my days and what I was now. An empty vessel with a black hole in the center.

For weeks, I felt like I was floating into nothingness. I had nothing to look forward to, nothing to hope for. I was taking one day at a time