Darkness

In that dark room there were shapes in monochrome, of course the daylight could bring brilliant fuchsia or deepest scarlet, but for now it could be a scene from a black and white movie. The silhouettes were already more discernible than they were only a short while before and Vladella gazed from the window; any moment the sun would kiss the sky orange, igniting a new dawn, bringing the chorus of the birds. There was something in the darkness that was like a promise, like the world before dawn. It was a room as a canvas rather than a finished work of art, and to her, it was all the more exciting. With each movement something new came to her hand, a tiny fragment of the furniture and antique ornaments took form, as if they were waiting for her to make them real.