“Blonde?”
“No. It . . . it’s purple.”
She dyed her hair purple. I can’t help but smile a little.
“That’s all, Maxim.”
Nina
One month later
Different shades of black and gray, and nothing else. I take some of the yellow paint on my brush and try adding a few strokes over the dark shapes on my canvas, but it only ends up smeared with the previous layer of black. It kind of reflects my state of mind the last few weeks. Shades of black, and every single attempt to add a little bit of color ends up as a fluke.
I leave the canvas to dry and go to the bathroom. The previous layers should dry by tomorrow evening, and I’ll try again. I wonder when I’ll be able to process anything other than shades of gray. It certainly won’t be tomorrow.
Three tubes of hair dye lay scattered next to
