I try to cast my mind back, to recapture the glimpse of colour I had felt when he walked into the room.
Was it red? Scarlet and fiery tracing a resolute path. like a flame, burning up the delineation of the other colours in its tracks with its intensity.
Blue? Flowing like a deep river, or like a wide lake. Silkily insinuating itself around the other colours surrounding them and enveloping them in its appeal, or yellow? Burning brightly, weaving its path over and around the rest. Laughing and gurgling its way through the obstacles, skirting round the bumps and knots.
I cannot remember. I cannot grasp it yet. Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps it was black again.
From - The Colour of Sleep by BMA
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