The afternoon had turned sour and a light rain had started pushing the afternoon to evening prematurely.
I was walking past the old blue stone building like I had done a thousand times before. I had never seen anyone come out of the dark brown doors.
Out he came, old and bent, he had large hands, big saucer shaped ears, sticking out from under an old cloth cap. He took five steps in his brown slipper clad feet to reach the second door, both facing the busy road. While he walked he pulled a long chain from his pocket, on the end was a set of keys. He quickly opened the door and disappeared again.
I could see through an old horizontal blind a dimly lit room with a large old brown leather sofa. His life seemed very brown. I think even his old cap was brown.
He works with pianos and lives and works in this old blue stone building painted brown. Do you know the colour Mission Brown? Well that is it, dark chocolate.
I've only been here 20 years maybe I'll wait another 20 years before I see him again.