Yellow. An entire landscape in shades of yellow, an otherwise rather nonthreatening color, but somehow here, now it brings a pervasive sense of dread lightly tinged with hopelessness. The sparse tufts of dead grass, the broken and tottering picket fence, the dirt of the long wandering driveway, the rusting old 1950s pick-up truck and the swaying, overgrown wheat fields beyond and even the sky itself. All a horrid canvas of yellows limned in the yellow of a golden sun that, if one watches long enough, seems to be setting.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=21822.msg847865#msg847865">Quote from: coglio001 on 03-10-2008, 00:51:21</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">Rene cried out in surprise as the blind snapped up. Turning suddenly, she shielded her eyes from the sudden glare. Her heart was pounding and the first tendrils of panic were beginning to grow in her gut. She took a few deep breaths, standing where she was. She wiped her hand across her brow, feeling sweat and wiping it off on her jeans.<br/><br/>Rene stepped to the window and looked out.<br/></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div>