I can only see one colour.
Of all the colours I would have chosen to see the world in, this wouldn’t be it.
It’s not red: filled with passion, love, lust or danger.
It’s not yellow: warm, welcoming, bursting with life.
It’s not blue: cool, calm, serene.
No, it’s grey. Dull, drab, neutral, washed-out grey.
That’s the monochromatic scale I view the world through.
But at least there are shades within that grey, nuances and variations, light and dark.
There are some who are cursed far worse than I.
They can see all the colours of the rainbow in all their glory.
Yet they choose to see the world and everything in it as only black and white.