The Days of Gray

i hear the voices outside, carried by a chilling wind through the screen of my open window. the sound of my drapes being blown back and forth makes a subtle clapping noise, like a solitary admirer with a pitiful heart. the voices dissipate into footsteps on salted walkways and leave only the distant drone of hidden mechanics to accompany me. i look out through the obfuscatory window and see a sky painted with gray such that even the clouds have no definition; it is a blanket of melancholy listlessness. fitting, that it should be the day before i leave which decides to depress me. is this the culmination of my first full term here? a day that cannot decide whether to be itself or night, and a campus devoid of any sentient life... i find myself again lying on my back staring at the ceiling for comfort... hoping for a sheath of whiteness upon which i can sketch my thoughts...