Wash away the shades of grey, and all you are left with is black.

Anthony passed away yesterday. I am devastated.

Last night while I was trying to get to sleep, I kept wondering if my subconscious would respond with a dream where I could say goodbye, where I could say all the things I never said when I had the chance. What a good friend he was to me. How much he meant to me. How much he brightened my days.

I didn’t have that dream. I dreamt I saw Anthony underwater, as a calm, graceful being undulating gently in the currents of dark, silent seas. I dreamt a wizened, withered old man sitting high above in a golden cloud pointed an ancient, knotted wooden staff at a group of group of indistinct figures standing far below in hazy, grey surrounds. 

I don’t know what this means. I miss my friend.