Yellow.

Matthew Hague
Sep 5, 2018 · 2 min read

Yellow. As he walked through the car-filled parking lot, to an eerie bus shelter, he could only think of the color yellow.

It had been so long. Even when he didn’t want to, he could only think of her.

As he approached the group of darkly dressed strangers huddled in the shelter, he turned his head to see a pair of yellow headlights shining through the pouring rain.

There it was again, another reminder of her. Minutes passed, and eventually he boarded the bus to the train station.

He sat at the middle of the bus, and stared out the window, occasionally glancing at his reflection.

Seasons passed, and the colors of white, green, orange, and pink cycled through the bus window as the years went by.

He rarely thought of her anymore, if at all… Black was now the color of his choice.

Jet Black and smooth as silk. Yellow had lost its meaning to him. Black was the color that raised his children. Black was the color he came home to every night.

August. He drove to the bus station at the crack of dawn to start his commute. As he watched the sun rise over the horizon, he wondered about Yellow.

He once loved Yellow. Yellow loved him. He couldn’t help but wonder what could have been if he hadn’t moved to the city.

Green was why he moved away from Yellow. He needed Green. Everyone needs some Green. “Was losing Yellow worth Green,” he thought.

The man went home to Black. Black was his partner. Their love still existed, but had faded over the years. Black was turning Grey, and so was the man.

White. The man’s vision faded to White…

Matthew Hague

Written by

BYU Mathematics Student