The sky outside is so black.
The light inside is so yellow.
It’s so damn hot that I feel red all over.
The screen in front is blindingly white.
My hair really is brown, no matter what they say.
I wonder if I’ll ever have the guts to color it purple…
Maybe then, my eyes will look more blue again.
It’s amazing, but I’ve actually managed to avoid having anything pink in my entire room.
It’s odd, but the only green that I can see is on Dr. Seuss’s Yurtle the Turtle.
The speaker on my left has a silver glint to it with the light on the way it is.
Gold? Well, my bracelet is rusting and looks pretty gold now.
I’m quite unimaginative at the moment, so I must be missing some colors. I’ll keep looking around. Anything to distract me from the dead grey of the stone sitting in my chest.
The sky was iron grey all day long, and the wind was sandy and much too warm for a January afternoon. The air was strangely silent as well, as if all the voices in the world were stifled, waiting for something to happen, something to erupt. If this were hurricane or tornado country, or even commonly quaky, I’d say that it was as if everyone was waiting for one of those natural disasters to occur.
And yet, it seemed that the air began to thaw, the sky literally brightened and became blue for a few moments before the sun set and it turned a brilliant pink and red. The reason seemed to be an oven, in an apartment, on the fourth floor of a building. In that oven sat a trey of chocolate chip cookies, baking slowly, spreading warmth and a smell so mouth watering that you could stand a mile away and salivate.
Never underestimate the power of a cookie to make everything seem better – even the weather.