The White Interval Between Us

I have stripped away the blue of the river and the gray of the tower until only essence remains. What is left? A stark white silhouette against a world reduced to light and void.
He told me he would meet me where the city breathes through its concrete lungs. I arrived wearing nothing but purity—a dress that catches every stray beam, a hat casting an intimate shadow over my eyes like a secret kept from the sun.
I winked at him across the distance, not out of playfulness, but as a signal: *I am here in your silence.*
He didn't speak. He simply stepped into my light, his figure becoming a dark anchor against my brightness. We stood there—two shapes defined by contrast and negative space—letting our shadows touch before we ever dared to hold hands.
In this colorless moment, I felt the warmth of his presence like ink bleeding into fresh paper. The city’s roar became a mute backdrop; only the rhythm of two hearts beating in monochrome mattered.

Editor: Monochrome Ghost