Poetry

Colors

Written By Jacob Ibrag

She kept talking about colors. Green, Blue, even Red. Back

here all we had was Black  and White, I wasn’t complaining. The

thing is, ever since certain colors started appearing, everything has

changed. Like myself, the majority of the town didn’t understand if this

was good change or bad. Just the other day, Mark did something that was

purely uncharacteristic, he missed a basketball shot. No one in the town has

missed a shot since, well… ever. We didn’t know how to react, and when someone

decided to take on the role of spokesperson, they started to scream. I’ve heard about

screaming, that’s when your vocals shot up several octaves, but to see it happen was

something else. The whole crowd started to follow the screaming man, it was perfect

chaos. Here we were now, staring at each other. What were we waiting for? What

was to come next? She kissed my lips. And as I pulled away and opened my eyes,

 she covered them once more with her warm hands. Begged me not to look. She

started to cry. That smell, they were roses. I’ve never smelled a rose, but this

had to be its scent, sweet like apple pie. She made me swear not to laugh

and slowly removed her hands. Her hair, it looked like fire.

My eyes stunned in disbelief. My Red Love.


Completely inspired by the movie Pleasantville.


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