Taste the Words

Taste the Words

Flash Fiction by Anita Haas

“What colour is it?” she asked, running her fingertips over the surface of the plate.

“White. Well...” he knew better than that. “…Off-white. Ivory. No, more like pearl.”

“Ah. Pearl.” she nodded, rolling her tongue around the word’s cool smoothness.

Years before, when she had first asked that question, he had responded, “What do you care, if you can’t see it anyway?”

“Lemon yellow or vanilla yellow?” she would ask, evoking the appropriate flavour.

Often, they would turn it into a joke.

“Platinum blonde, strawberry blonde or dirty blonde?”

“Grass green, apple green or snot green?”

“Rose red, cherry red or blood red?”

“Chocolate brown or shit brown?”

And then there were the colours of abstract nouns like cowardice, envy, anger and death. How had those been chosen?

Pink for girls and blue for boys!

She set the dish down and reached for his hand. He led her toward the exit, anticipating her every step. She squeezed his hand and smiled in the direction of his voice, wondering, What colour would they call this?

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