Yellow, Mountain, Lipstick
There is a yellow scarf in that shop and I want it. Just, yellow. In an open air market in a large village in Africa. I forget the name. Elephants trumpet in the distance, the natives treat them like family. Monkeys chatter and scold from the nearby trees, fussing at the dogs and goats that come too close.
I sit and remove my straw hat, wiping my brow with a kerchief I keep in my pocket. A yellow scarf. It would look lovely against my brown skin, both colors bringing out the best in each other. Nothing wrong with a little sunshine around the shoulders, eh? No red hats for this old lady, no sir. I’m not a vain person, per se. I try to remember to comb my hair once a day before leaving the house. I might remember to do it again after getting up from a nap – and I might not! But that scarf. So very pretty with embroidery worked along all the ends and tassels hanging down from the edge. It’s very nice.
A shortened version of this story will be available in the summer issue of Exit 271: Your Georgia Writers Resource. The summer edition should be out by the end of August. Thank you for stopping by!