Colors

The first time it’s grey. He watches the thin line make its way through the wall until it disappears. The world goes back to white. So he doesn’t spare it a thought.

The second time it’s red. A red dot on top of the wall, staring mockingly at him. He figures it must be blood. Not that he knows blood’s color. But they say it’s usually crimson. So he turns away.

The third time it’s blue. He didn’t really know that his soap was blue. But there it is, sitting on the counter of the bathroom in all its blue grace. But he blinks, and the color goes away as fast as it came. So he grabs the soap and goes into the shower.

The fourth time it’s orange. He’s at the market, and the bag of fruits he’s holding suddenly breaks. When they touch the floor, they’re no longer white. They’re a bright orange. Of course he can’t really be sure, since he’s never seen any of its shades. The color fades as they roll. So he apologizes to the angry employee who’s currently fuming at him and grabs another bag.

The fifth time it’s green. He’s out in the park, lying on the grass, because for once it isn’t raining, and he suddenly realizes the plant has discarded its usual white for a much happier green. He’s not even surprised anymore. He just lies back and closes his eyes. When he wakes up he’s completely soaked, and the green is nowhere to be seen. So he grabs his things and runs back home.

The sixth time it’s different. There’s a man carrying a purple t-shirt and a yellow beanie on the street. And he’s staring right at him. So he stares back.

The man introduces himself as “T”, and he isn’t really sure why he does it, but he still invites him to come home with him anyway. T speaks along the way, and keeps speaking when they’re already there. He speaks about lots of things, some he’s never heard of, some he knows, some that ring faint bells. T ends up staying overnight. But he doesn’t have a guest room. So they share the bed.

T eventually moves in, because they both agree it’s much more comfortable than having to meet up all the time. Colors keep paying visits, and he soon discovers that T’s eyes are green. T says his hair is dark brown. He still sees himself white. So he laughs and reaches his hand to ruffle golden locks affectionately.

Three months later he opens his eyes in the morning and a myriad of colors welcome him. He jolts up and looks around, fascinated. The only white left in the room is the covers T is tangled on, still sleeping. He shakes him up, and he’s as surprised as him, because the world is a colorful place. And they go out.