For Frank Harmon the world was a colorless place, a place he slowly ambled through just trying to keep his life together. Married now to a disappointed woman, someone who expected something more from him, more than the dingy apartment they lived in, more than the beat up car she drove, more than the day to day drone of the Frigidaire. In his bland existence he came to believe his wife. Whenever he left for work each morning, after saying good bye to his wife, he'd mumble under his breath, "I'm sorry."
He made sure his wife never heard those words because he knew here response would have been, "Sorry for what?" and then go through her entire list, making sure he fully understood that he was the only reason she wasn't adorned in fine jewelry and clothes. As he walked down the stairs that spiraled in the center of the crumbling building he wondered if it would rain that day, not that it really mattered, the sunlight simply seemed a dull white amid the black and gray.
Going to work was a short walk down the street to the subway, where he followed the crowd down the stairs, boarded the first westbound train he could fit on and then stumbled out with the people at Van Ness where instead of riding the escalators up into the daylight, he wandered through a door in the bowels of the Metro and started his shift. As he headed toward the elevator shaft he saw Maria pushing her mop bucket into the restroom, strangely she was wearing sunglasses in the dim light of the metro station.
It wasn't until lunchtime when they met, as they did each week when he worked the Van Ness station. It was only after he led her down to his maintenance office, where he kept a small cot that the color returned to his life. There alone, they would step out of the faded clothes and touch the vibrant color of each other's flesh, Maria's darker, almost brown skin touching his fair, ruddy complexion. Her brown eyes would watch his green eyes as they marveled in her body.
Today it was different and the color he saw when she removed her sunglasses made him wince. The blue had now faded to a greenish yellow, a color he had occasionally seen on her body over the last few months. Frank held his hand out to Maria, lightly touching the bruise.
"He?"
"Yes," she replied.
"When?"
"Last week, someone told him I had been unfaithful. He knows Frank, he knows."
"What will you do?"