Blue Glasses
“Why blue glasses?” He asked, as they sat across from each other at dinner. The table had a white linen tablecloth, cream candles, polished silverware, and a yellow rose in a bud vase. There was the quiet hush of opulence, the cushion of feet stepping on thick carpets, the quiet clinking of forks on plates.
She was starting to relax as a sip of red wine, smooth and warm, made its way down her mouth, her throat, to land, with a sweet splash, in her belly.
But then he asked the question, “Why blue glasses.” She wasn’t even sure what he was talking about. “Forgive me,” he started again. “I noticed when you’d taken out your glasses to read the menu they were blue.”
“Oh.” She’d been prepared to answer any number of questions. Did she have any siblings? Where had she vacationed recently? What was her dream job? But he’d asked her about her glasses, and why they were blue. She almost pulled them out to take a closer look. She didn’t even remember they were blue. “Why are they blue? I have no idea.” She stumbled.
“No. Not why are they blue? Why did you pick blue?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. “I like blue, I guess. Yes, I like blue.”
He stared at her, but the answer didn’t seem to satisfy him. “Forgive me for asking again, but why blue?”
She was starting to wonder about him. Why should he care? She certainly didn’t. At the time, she’d liked them. They matched her eyes. She liked the sparkles on the frames.
“Oh dear, I see I’ve embarrassed you. I didn’t mean to. It’s just… It’s just that color is so important. Not to be taken lightly or for granted. For example, I noticed all the different browns in your hair.”
He could see her flinch, and the impulse to raise her hand to touch her head.
“Now you might say your hair is brown. But it’s not, not really. It’s a range of colors. A spectrum that goes from red to gold with a hundred shades of brown woven between. Bark brown, cappuccino brown, earth brown. No two strands identical.”
She looked at him oddly as their food arrived and her salad was placed in front of her. She’d ordered a green salad that came with goat cheese and sun-dried tomatoes. He’d order a salad of beets three ways.
As the waiter left, she looked down at her plate and noticed, for the first time, all the different shades of green. The way the cheese was slightly pink from the balsamic vinegar. And how the tomatoes, placed so gracefully in her plate, ran a full range of color from yellow to ruby red.
She smiled at him shyly, and took a bite.
Inspired by the prompt: Love/Hate.
Marianne was born to a family of artists, and has spent her life exploring creativity in its many facets. She is also a long time landscape designer and earth activist. Follow along as she explores the beauty of the every day and the mystery of the cosmos.
