The colour blue

What is life without the most pleasing sight of colour? I suppose we should ask dogs about that , for their dreary existences are seen in nothing more then vintage black and white. More importantly , what is the colour blue? Why , it is my favourite color , calm , peaceful , serene , vibrant too yet , now, it haunts me.

The day was like any other , monotonous routine before school was to be carried out , the colour blue following me everywhere I went. It appeared in a shade of navy as I zipped up my always-too-long skirt , luminous in the form of my mug that enclosed the magic elixir known as coffee , boring and regular as I glanced over at my physics notes and mostly sky blue for nothing other than the vast sky above.

The mere thought of having to go school and write one of Mr Moodley’s infamous killer Physics tests , made me want to quit school and join the circus (as cliché as it gets). The likelihood of me surviving circus life however seemed less promising that the chances of me passing my physics test . The only way to truly lift my spirits , with minimal damage to my well-being was to waste a ton of money at the tuck shop.

With my decision made , I hurried up the stairs , bag and general file in hand , to make sure I had enough time to sneak out some cash and meet my mother’s standards of arriving at school on time , also know as the crack of dawn. In the rush , I laid down my bag and file and dug out my secret stash , only to realise much to my horror that it was gone . My beautiful , crisp , almost metallic blue R100 notes , were gone.

I guess you could say I was feeling a bit blue about my current predicament , but in my twirl of madness out the door , I masked my sadness. Only after ten minutes in the stuffy car did I notice the absenve of my general file. It was far too late for mother to go back (6:40 AM) and the giant silver prison gates were already in my direct line of sight.

I took my mother’s advice and called my father , praying he could bring my life source to school on time.

“It’s a big blue file , lying in the study,” I hurriedly told him

“Blue? I only see a green one!” he yelled back

” Oh my god , seriously , bright blue , not GREEN , just bring it!” I raged on.

That was it , the last conversation I had with my father , the argument over whether my glaringly obvious blue file , was in fact blue or green.

AUTHORS NOTE: This was written as a practise essay in class during English and inspired by true events minus my dad dying though.


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