“I remember color, but it’s a blur. Like all memories you can’t quite remember,” Ay told her sister Bee as she picked at a loose thread unraveling from the gray circle rug. They were sitting in the middle of their main room, waiting for the truck to deliver dinner.
“We still have prescribed “Vibrant Zones”; there’s plenty of color there.” Bee reminded Ay.
Ay knows about the Vibrant Zones, where you walk in and are handed a shirt at random – she liked the yellow ones the best but for some reason they always handed her red.
It is probably because of her hair color. The same hair she’s supposed to start dying this year. Entering the workplace requires monochrome.
“What was it like when there was color everywhere?”
The memories are a blur of people on buses, purple next to gold next to brown next to orange. “It was beautiful.”
“But distracting,” Bee supplied, dutifully.
Ay nods in agreement because she should, because together, nodding, they are both the same.
Written for Blog Propellant’s Picture Prompt #15