She was driving home after work, mind completely somewhere else. Which is common for her, since her mind doesn't know how to process one thought at a time. It was a beautiful Spring day, which she was keenly aware of. Sunroof open, all the windows down, hair being blown into an auburn mess. She passed by some demonstrators, dressed all in black, carrying signs that denounced ALL acts of violence.
She was suddenly snapped back into the moment by a very forboding epiphany. As uncomfortable as it made her feel, she couldn't shake it and had no choice but to explore it's presence. For as far back as she could remember, she wore black. Ninety eight percent of her wardrobe is black. Right down to her lingerie.When she goes shopping, she seeks out anything in black. It didn't matter to her what season she was buying it for. Black. Black. Black. Except for one pair of white Converse Chucks, all her shoes are black. All her purses are black. She lines her bright blue eyes in black. All her tattoos are black, except for the orange rose she had done when she was nineteen. Her car is black. She goes between coloring her hair black and auburn, depending on her mood.
Why? Seems so macabre. Depressing. Black. Black. Black. It's the color of sadness, mourning, dread, fear, darkness, evil, death. She began to think of the losses she has experienced....is she unconsciously and without ending, mourning the loss and/or death of things and people in her life?
Her feeling of loss of innocence at her near molestation at age twelve. The loss of her virginity at nineteen by a virtual stranger. The loss of a baby she would never come to know. The loss of her animation, when owning her own daycare, she was falsely accused of hurting one of her daycare children. She never even spanked her own kids.  The joy and pride she had for owning her own successful business, disappeared the day she shut the door on her last departing, young client. The death of her beloved Grandmother. The death of the woman she loved like a mother. The sudden death of her very best friend. The dissolving of two marriages by men who promised to care for her. But only managed to nearly destroy her physically and psycologically. The end of trust to a man that spun a web of lies so convincing, it wasn't until so much financial and emotional damage had been done, before she realized she had fallen for his twisted finesse.
She loves the night, alone, in the quiet stillness, where her job takes her. The black night. Black silhouetted trees, mountains, livestock in black pastures. Black water running through darkened creeks. The black sky, with angry grey clouds, the only illuminisity is the moon and stars.
Black. Black. Black.