The pink tutu was not my idea. Being a waitress was not my idea. My existence was not my idea. But it happened all the same.
The rain dripped down the bus window in clear sheets of pain. I wanted so badly to be outside, to let the rain pour down my face, to let it wash away all this pain. I would spin and spin, until the years flew off of me, leaving me new, and whole. I would stick out my tongue and feel the cool tasteless drops slide down my throat. I would throw back my head and laugh like a child. I would dance. I would be alive.
Slowly I stood and got off the bus. This wasn’t my stop, but I couldn’t watch the world rush by any longer. It was breaking me. The sidewalks blurry shade of gray leaked into the roads blurry shade of gray, which then dripped into the rains visible invisibility. I was alone in the middle of the sidewalk. I was alone in the middle of the city. I was alone. There was nothing else to do but what I had always wanted. I spun. I spun and spun, until it felt as if I were weightless, but still the pain was there, still the years gone by sat heavy in my chest. A few gray men in gray business suits rushed by brandishing gray umbrellas against the gray rain. I threw my head back and laughed at the thought, I had thought I could get rid of all my fears, but they were stuck. Stuck like glue. I looked up to the gray clouds. The whole world was gray, and in that minute I realized how badly I had missed the colors of the world. When all you had to do was open your eyes and there in front of you would be an entire rainbow, for you alone to interpret and enjoy however you wanted. Everyone in the world could glance at the same red apple but everyone would see something different, a little girl full of fairy tales would see the magic apple that could’ve been the end of snow white, a man full of war and inescapable memories would see a single blood stain on his only friends chest, steaming under the hot sun of the desert. I missed the colors more than anything. Oh, the reds! Firey and confident beside purples arrogance and pinks shyness, tied in perfectly with blues indifference, and browns silent pleading. I wanted color but all I saw was gray. I wanted feeling but all I felt was numb. I trudged along the sidewalk, staring sadly at the gray sidewalk beneath me. I had no idea where I was. I was completely alone. I shuffled on, watching the world pass me by in increasingly saddening shades of gray. After some time the rain stopped but the world remained gray. That must of been when I saw him, when the rain stopped. I looked up to find myself in the middle of a gray park, a gray bench to my right. On that bench sat a coat, inside the coat sat a man. The coat was not gray.
The coat was a red and confident. It was purple with arrogance and green with envy. It was pink, blue and yellow and brown! An entire rainbow sat on that mans chest in that gray park. I stood for a moment just staring at the magnificent coat sitting on that gray bench and slowly as I watched, the coat sit and live and breathe as I had been forced to, the color leaked back into the world. Then bench slowly turned green, a green not entirely unlike the one that was now seeping across the grass, which then turned a deep brown and scuttled up the tree trunks, which slowly turned to a light shadowy green that wrinkled slightly at the edges of the swaying leaves. The green of the leaves then threw itself into the sky and turned a blue that reminded me of silent night, midnight fights, and so many fireflies. The man sat silently staring at me as I watched the world around him change but he did not, he remained gray and still in his coat. I continued to watch the world change with awe.
“This isn’t happening” The words escaped my lips before I had time to control them.
“I know.” Replied the man in the colored coat replied. I hadn’t realized how close I was too him, only about a foot of vibrantly colored air remained between us, and, not knowing what else to do I plopped down on the bench beside him and continued to watch my world change. The gray business men in gray business suits brandishing gray umbrellas in the distance slowly turned into business men in black suits with bright umbrellas and tiny far off, but still warm, smiles.
“The world” whispered the man “Was it always this colorful?”
“No.” I whispered back “It was you” I continued to whisper as I turned to face him. “You changed it”
He was not a particularly old man, nor was he very young. He was not necessarily good looking, but he was by no means ugly.
“No.” He said a bit louder sounding worried. “You changed it? Your tutu, it’s so bright.” He looked down and shyly touched the tulle that made up my tutu. My mind suddenly flashed back to this morning, my mother had told me to be more outgoing, not to let the losses add up and I had worn a tutu, it was meant to be symbolic, ironic even.
“It was gray before... I saw... what’s happening?” I made a fool of myself while he continued to stare at my tutu.
“You did this?” He asked accusingly.
I had been watching the colors slowly seep over the horizon, changing every so often to accommodate whatever was in it’s path but no I could do nothing but stare at this man in his beautiful coat. His eyes which had been slowly turning a light green only moments ago were now black, with rage maybe? But just as I noticed it they stopped, a light green, the color of new moss, slowly creeped in from the corners of his eyes and spread. He shook his head and looked at me. Tears in his eyes.
“You.” He said. “You and your tutu, you colored the whole world just by coming to sit on this bench.” Speechless. I was absolutely speechless. There was nothing I could say. It was him. Him, sitting on a gray bench in a gray park in the middle of a gray city. He had changed me.
“Your coat...” I tried, but I just couldn’t find the words.
“I will never forget you.” He promised in a low whisper. He stood up, took one last fleeting glance at me, and walked away. I didn’t have the strength to follow him, I just sat on the bench... and watched the colors of the world follow him. I sat on a gray bench in the middle of a gray world and let the rain wash over me.