Milieu
A figure wrapped in the greyest of all grey was making its way up the incline to the crest of the hill on university grounds. Once there, they turned right and began the long decent back down the hill – down to the place where they lived. With the sun setting ahead, the moving figure bowed their head so that the visor of the jacket hood hid the sun’s oppression. Should anyone pain themselves to look away from the light and upon the slow-moving being, they would not see the eyes, and any accidental story they might convey through their glazed colorations of fatigue. This march from the lab was made regularly- usually in darkness- usually, much later.
