Gray, or Grey?

It was gray. Very gray. It had been gray since the word “gray” had been invented.

Regina sat, mulling this over, wondering why she was born here, of all places. When had the word “gray” been invented? Was it a branch of some other language, the type that English so readily borrows from? It could’ve been Latin, perhaps. It was also spelled two different ways, “grey” and “gray.” Maybe it was originally French. She didn’t know. There were many things she didn’t know.

She gazed out at the parking lot below her window.
Gray (or was it grey?) automobiles sat abandoned in their spaces. She looked at the bland Jeep especially. That Jeep had been there ever since she could remember. The other cars came and went, but it seemed someone had driven it there and just left it. She loved the gray Jeep.

“Regina, time for dinner!” She heard a muffled voice from down below. She sighed. Even the people here were gray.

Regina washed her red hair, put on her blue jacket, and descended the steps.

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