Saturday, February 9, 2013

The Colours of my Life

It's the second month of the year already and I am still alone. The rough seas surrounding the island seem to be accentuating my isolation as they grip tightly the terrain in their white, fluffy grasp. Is loneliness making me over romanticize everything? Probably. Should I worry about this? Maybe. Am I turning this journal into a secret diary with girly thoughts? Yep.

Nicholas hasn't written or sent any sign of life for over a month. The birds in the aviary are enough work and company to keep the days full, but something seems to be always lacking.

 I pulled myself together this morning and did what every person that feels sorry for themselves do: I ventured to find out if I am alone in my feelings of doom and gloom. The best place to do that is the islands library. As I have said before, the islands library consists of journals of every single person past and present that has inhabited the island. As human nature repeats itself, I was sure I'd find a similar account to my predicament and maybe if I was lucky find a solution too.

I knocked with intent on the imposing wooden door and waited and it wasn't long until one of the librarian's helpers opened the beast for me. She was a young girl, barely in her early twenties with a broad smile that displayed somewhat goofy teeth. She ushered me in and led me to the first isle of books, the scent of newly bound leather calming me with every breath. Maybe I didn't need to read anything...maybe I just needed to inhale deeply and my sadness would be cured.

- Yes miss, so were you looking for something particular or were you just wanting to browse?
This question came as a bit of a shock...I wasn't sure I had a suitable answer, at least not one that would not portray me as a complete idiot.
- Erm, well. I am not really sure. I am looking for something but I don't know how to describe it. To be honest I don't know if it even exists.
- So let me get this right miss, you are in doubt? Would you say that is correct?
- Umm, I guess so. The teeth I at first took as goofy, started to look menacing.
- Follow me then! Her tone indicated that I shouldn't consider for a minute to not do as I was told. So I dutifully obeyed.
She led me to a section in the middle of the next room. It was tidy and dust free, obviously it was a section that was used a lot. The heading over the neatly placed leatherbound books was one I hadn't noticed before. It was simple and to the point: WHEN IN DOUBT.
- The procedure  for this section is quite simple miss, stand in front of the bookshelf, close your eyes and point to a book. Then take it to that small desk over there and reflect while reading.
- So I pick a book by chance? The look she gave me would have made any grown man hide under a table and tremble.
- No miss, whatever gave you that idea!! Consider, your height for instance, if you are left handed or right handed, if you have a tendency to stoop, etc. You will pick the book which is suitable for you, there is no doubt about that!
I chuckled inwardly listening to her unintended pun. She ran through the instructions again, then turned and left me standing and wondering if there was a back door and if i could get to it unnoticed.
But I didn't look for a door dear reader. I did what she told me to do. And I was rewarded handsomely.



This is the book that I chose. It was called "The colours of my life" and the author was one "Mrs Janet B. Carlton".  The book was full to the brim with colour palettes. It seems that everyday Mrs Carlton would not write an entry in words but in colours. And every day the colours would be different. As much as I tried I couldn't find a duplicate colour in any of the pages.




I spent all the morning and afternoon going through the book, and even without words I could read the authors feelings and innermost thoughts. It was almost nightfall when I realized that the library would be closing soon and I had to leave.

Did the book I choose make me happier? No it probably didn't...but it did teach me one thing...one thing that comforted me: That tomorrow's colours, even the colour of the sadness I felt would be another hue. And it could possibly be a beautiful one.







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