Think Again

         All my life, I've only seen in black and white. As I've grown up, I had my friends describe colors to me in the best way they could. Purple was always my favorite. They described it as soothing, vivid and rich. It's hard to describe colors to someone who has never seen them. And I appreciated them for trying to do so. But one day, something changed.  It was a day just like any other, the sky was gray, and a giant white sun beamed down on my head as I scurried between the shining, metal skyscrapers.
         Hundreds of black and grey clothed bodies waddled together, all having somewhere to be. I was on my way to the library, my favorite place to go. Being surrounded by tall, wood shelves of books, and sunlight streaming through the windows. It's always such a comfortable place. On the way, I passed a Florist as they carefully and expertly arranged a bouquet for some fancy occasion. A sigh escaped me as the Florist plucked a grey peony from the arrangement and replaced it with the tiny, white buds of baby's breath.
         Walking a little quicker, I crossed the street into the brick and glass building filled with worlds crammed between pages. The dark grey carpet muffled my steps as I made my way to the Fiction section and quietly surveyed the shelf. In my peripheral, I could see the trees swaying in the sudden breeze. And I could see something else, something bright and vivid. Tripping over chairs I ran to the window and pressed my face against the warm glass. Someone was sitting on a bench outside, nestled in a book. But they were shrouded in colors that I could only guess the names of. 

      Bolting out of the back doors into the courtyard, I slowly walked toward the boy enraptured in his book, perched on the bench. He must have heard my footsteps because he raised his head and looked at me curiously. And I realized I was wrong. Blue is my favorite color.