The Original Mr Grey
One of them wears a white suit. Has golden hair. Has teeth that are so white you need headache pills to recover from his smile.
If you find yourself surrounded by your family, in your old age, in a hospital — it’s him that you’ll want to meet.
To know him is to love him.
One of them wears a dark cloak. Hair, if he has any, is hidden behind a hood. Once a year, on Father’s Day, he likes to dad-dance with his rusty scythe.
If you find yourself on a train, car, or plane and something unexpected happens – it’s him you’ll want to avoid.
To know him is to fear him.
Me? You don’t know me. That’s the point. I’m the other one. The one that nobody sees.
I am your dull wait at the dentists.
The punishing bureaucracy.
I am your interminable train ride home. Each. And. Every. Night.
I make sure everything is tedious and repetitive. The highs and lows balance. Until your life is spent and you wonder what happened to it.
The other two always called me Mr Grey. Now they tease me about fetishes and playrooms (whatever they are).
It seems I’ll have to change my name.
I blame the writers.
Source: Flash! Friday: Vol 3 – 28 | Flash! Friday
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I got a Special Mention awarded for my cheeky use of what was a topical issue that week.
Metropolitan Dreams 