For years people have tried to convince me that grey is good. Compromise. Haggle and barter to the end of times to make everything grey.
I prefer black and white. Things are more clear when they are not grey. Agreeing to disagree is my preferred way of comprise. You stay white, I stay black. Live and let live.
I won’t bow to grey. I rather go under in a storm of red and purple then bend my knee to grey.
And every now and then all of a sudden out of no where, there is grey. The sun is shining but it’s grey. Oh happy day.
And so a grey picture on a grey day.