When did I start loving magenta? And tourmaline? And azure blue?
Such vibrant colours seeping in attitude just from their hue. I’m usually a fan of black, brown and grey. Insisting there are, in fact, varying shades of black. Midnight black, velvet-black, gothic black.
Making me invisible.
But now things have changed. There’s been a shift. A slow but defined migration towards brilliancy and boldness.
I think it’s because of my age. My senses are beginning to dull and wane.
The multitude of seasonings stored in my kitchen cupboards is testament that my taste buds are starting to tire. Cumin and coriander, pepper and paprika. No ice cream seems sweet enough; no cheese savory enough and there’s no such thing as “too tart”.
And I used to have the hearing of a superhero. I could tune into a whisper from the opposite end of my classroom. Make out…
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