ch 1 a town called faded gray episode: 1

once upon a time there was a silver city nestled brilliantly in a low valley
but that time drifted and drifted until it became long ago and the once silver city
became a town called faded gray. in this town the people were droopy and tired
and everything was gray and faded. every once a while red or yellow would glow through grey dusty clouds and other then that there was no color except..... purple....
but the strange thing about purple was no one could see it! if something was purple it was hidden very well. this created a problem for Samuel Cole, his head was wrapped up in purple and no one could see his face!

he did the best he could and lived his life like the rest of faded gray, simple and slight.
one day as he was driving a cart of gray turnips to the market he slowed as he passed town hall, much to large for their little gray village, it was built for a silver city that had drifted into dustiness and a slight simple gray. that great tall building much to great for the town he saw as he always did the purple pressed up against the windows and trying its best to squeeze out through the great big locked doors that rested on great iron hinges mounted on a door frame that was as tall as a tree

samuel often reflected on how odd it seemed to close and lock a building because it was filled with something you couldn't see or touch. purple was always easy to see for Samuel but it was far to slippery for him to unwrap his head so that people could see his face. a hidden face was a fortunate disguise for a boy with ambition amongst a sea of drooping eye lids and aggressively bland taste. his slow pass of the town hall slowed gradually and the pass became an approach until he found himself standing at the door of a day dream with gient iron hinges weighing on his almost weightless mind trails of thought twirling through the air and not landing for several moments.

there was a creak and a long groan. Samuel dazed, still blurry eyed blinked and blinked and stared. tranquilized from his ambition and sobriety by a day dream amidst monotony, samual stood still as a dead wind. the doors groaned against the large iron lock and chains that bound the handles of the great doors. the doors bowed and creaked under some great pressure then as if calmed by the command of a master the pressure went down and the doors bowed back and nothing was changed nothing amidst the gray. a wisp of purple fluttered and floated and rested in the air as it came through a hair size crack. a little more purple did not bother samual cole his head was wrapped in it what harm could it be a wisp almost less the a wisp. so he, almost inspired regained his composure regaining his sobriety and took a hopeful note of this color it seemed only he could see and went back to his cart full of gray turnips.