White

They appear in the sky differently everyday. As a kid, you always believed that there was someone painting the clouds into the sky every day. Sometimes, they make the clouds abstract. Sometimes, they get tired and leave the sky with no clouds. Sometimes, they hate us and make the whole sky gray full of a thick blanket.

You never liked them fresh. It was another food from your home that you miss. You don't like it as much anymore as you did before. Maybe because you rarely eat it now. Or maybe because it reminds you too much of home. You really do miss home.

Your parents have been getting many white hairs. You realize how old they really are. But you can't help but think what your grandparents look like now. You haven't seen them in years since you left home. You miss them. And your family.

It was the color of his hoodie that day: white. You swore that he always wears it. You find out that it's his only hoodie. Yet he allows you to take it for yourself. You like him.

He wasn't really your cat. He was a stray who came to like your family a lot. He was soft, white. Eyes like the sea even though he was crosseyed. He used to wander around the house in the mornings and be as nosy as ever. You miss him. He was left back at home with no one who could truly take care of him. You wonder how he is now.

The only thing that provided you comfort at night. The only thing that watched you suffer at night. The only thing that wiped your tears at night. The only thing that you were able to hug at night. A pillow.