She farted the color yellow. She perspired the color blue. Her most angry thoughts created a greenish aura around her head, while both her lusty imaginings and lightning-like pangs of envy created an orange fog around her feet.
Her tinder date was color-blind. It might have worked.
It did not.
There are no answers at kentoswald.com about why it is evolutionarily preferable that males are more likely to be color blind, but there are additional words.
The colors swirled before my eyes like a cracked kaleidoscope spilling its contents into a surrealist landscape.
A part of me knew that something was terribly wrong, but that voice was drowned out by the sea of sensations washing over me. And so I just danced while the world ended.
Chris Griglack was born and raised in Massachusetts where he has lived for 24 years. He graduated from the University of Massachusetts Dartmouth in 2012 with a degree in Writing, Rhetoric, and Communications.
Detective Jackson sat on the table. “Tell me, Karl: how did you feel when you saw the deceased kissing your ex-girlfriend?”
“I was a little sad, that’s all.”
“Oh really. Lorne, what does the mood ring say?”
“It’s red, Jackson.”
“That means anger, Karl, not sadness. Tell the truth, son!”
This story is based on a title suggested by @GreatTrollKing.