“What’s your favorite color?” he said.

Right now it’s yellow like the lemon blueberry scones that are almost ready to come out of the oven. They match my French country kitchen—all blues and whites and brights layering together because that makes it easier to smile.

White towels for dishes because then when they’re dirty I can erase them with bleach.

“What’s your favorite color?” he said.

It depends on your mood.

Because it’s easier to make a meal from scratch for 18. Because if I cook all day then I have permission to not be hungry.

“My favorite color is water,” she said.

“Really?” he said.

My grandmother always taught me that water was colorless. That’s why I hate taking baths. They remind me. The ocean is blue. And so is my favorite color like clear like invisible like no boundaries because you can’t cage water.

I like polka dots, too, but I’m not sure that I can wear them. They’re more your mistresses’ style.

Anything neutral.

Tan or brown or white or black, army green made the list and some shade of pink that I can never remember.

“What’s your favorite color?” he said.

Sidewalk cracks.
Metaphors.
Plastic that should be disposable but that people use over and over again like security blankets like sex.
Windows. Clouded ones.

“What’s your favorite color?” he said.

“What’s yours?” she said.

Mine is a purple martini in a cobalt glass.

“Would you like some water?” she said.

“Yes, please. I’m dehydrated,” he said.

“Then tell me your favorite color. Water is my favorite color. Clear. Colorless. Odorless. Yet with surface tension,” she said.

“What’s your favorite color?” he said.

“I’m scared,” she said.

“What’s your favorite color?” he said.

None of your business. Yet. I mean, it’s negotiable, anyway. Something like metal getting warm. 5 inches shorter and 60 pounds lighter

“What’s your favorite color?” he said.

“No one’s asked me that in years,” she said.

“What’s your favorite color?” he said.

“Never thought of it. Yours?”

“What’s your favorite color?” he said.

Thin. Are there others?

“Mine is questions,” he said.

10 inch squared kitchen tiles. Black and white and black and white and dizzy with cleanliness.

“What’s your favorite color?” he said.

“Yes?” she said.

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