It was daylight when you woke up in your ditch

The wind curls your pants around your legs as you stand in the gray evening. You stare up at the sky and your world is gray. Tiny spots of white come down at you from that depthless mist, some taken by the wind, others falling. Your world becomes white, free. You are floating now, taken by the wind as the will of the world flies you where it wants to.
Out across the sea you go, and over the mountains high. You’re falling and soaring at the same time; expanding. The lights of life below call to you, become one with you. As you stretch, you feel yourself connecting with it all, with everything.
The train whistle interrupts you as it thunders by, not caring who you are or where you were. Its black bulk rushes past and now your world is black. Darkness turns you in on yourself and you contract. Inward you go, towards your memories, your past. It squeezes in on you, crushing. Smaller and smaller you get as you feel the weight of all the sadness, all the heartbreak you’ve had push at you.
And when you’ve become the smallest you’ll ever be, smaller than you’ve ever been, the pain stops. The color changes. Your memories are still there, but seen through better glass, through windows unblackened. Not all happy, but more happy than not. Small amounts of joy outweigh great amounts of greif. Peace comes to you.
Night has fallen now, and the streetlight shines yellow through the gloom. The train is gone, the wind is dying. You are neither sad, nor completely happy. Nothing is perfect, peace is fleeting. But, in this moment it is on you. Neither black, nor completely white.
Your world is gray.