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My Favorite Blue A lot of Jordan’s favorite things, she realized, were blue. Her favorite sweater was blue, a dark cabled fisherman’s sweater that she got when she and Elliot were in Ireland last winter, taking their first vacation together. It was warm and cozy and always smelled like Elliot. Her favorite blanket was blue, a crocheted throw that Elliot made before they met. It was surprisingly well-done, the light-blue angora woven into intricate patters, softer than anything else she owned. The sky on the coldest days of winter was blue, so light it was almost white, looking like it would shatter if you touched it. And right before sunset when the horizon turned light pink and purple and gold, sending colored rays of light out into the darkening sky. The ocean was blue, the Atlantic a dark cobalt almost always peaked with whitecaps. She loved to watch the waves come in, crashing at her feet, the cold spray splashing over her body. The lake at Ben’s old summer place was more dark brown than blue by now, but that didn’t really matter. The catfish were still there and tickled your feet when you swam, the raft anchored in the middle still crawling with the water spiders that she had hated all her life. Elliot’s eyes were blue, light and sparkling when she was in a good mood, hard chips of ice when she was pissed off, dark velvet when she was aroused. No matter what color they were, Jordan loved them. Elliot’s scrubs were also blue, at least at first. By then end of the day who knew what was on them, anything from blood to orange juice to certain other, tastier liquids, depending on how the day went. Jordan’s favorite pair of Elliot’s underwear was a light, sky blue. Ruffled lace and a darker blue bow, a matching bra. She was actually pretty impressed by how well they managed to hold up after all she put them through. Yes, blue was a pretty good color indeed. |
My 40 Snapshotsby Nicole Merrill |
