Only the very oldest people remembered a time when humans could see in colour

Only the very oldest people remembered a time when humans could see in colour. It had been about 80 years since the big flash. Only the elders in town had remembered it. It was an idyllic, serene day at the park. The parents were holding hands and swinging their children, the youngsters were riding bikes, chasing each other and playing hopscotch, and the elderly were feeding the ducks. Without warning, the world illuminated brightly, pulsated with light 2 or 3 times and all color simply popped out of existence. 80 Years had passed since that day. Wow. Has it been 80 years. I remember that day at the park. I was one of the kids. I remember loving my red Schwinn bicycle. I remember dinging the golden bell as I rode by the people in the park. I remember the greenery and the blue of the sky. Oh god. Why did it happen.? Where had all the color gone? Everything felt so different now. Movies, paintings. Even the things you wouldn't expect to like poetry or art. Even food. It's like with one sense gone, all the others followed suit. Not only had the color been exhumed from the world, it was if the light in all of our lives had gone. Life had become dull and dreary. None of has had any inspiration. We all droned on and on in our 9 to 5 jobs. All businessmen, bankers, and workers. Because you didn't need color to see paper or greed or capitalism. You didnt need color to be able to swindle, cheat, and steal. All that had remained. But the poets, the singers, the dancers, the preachers. It's as if the world had just created this huge empty space in the world and in our hearts. A vacuum waiting to be filled with the arts. I wasn't going to take it anymore. I wanted my kids and the kids after him to feel again. To breathe the color in the wind. More than anything I wanted my kids to see a red Schwinn bike.