Page 69 of Don’t Be A Stranger

But it doesn’t.

I’m still staring at a colorless wall with swirls of paint I so desperately want to see. I can see shades of black, white, and grays but some days it’s not enough. I find myself craving more.

Sometimes I forget that people see the world differently and life isn’t black and white for everyone else.

I mean, besides having to wear sunglasses during sunny days—because the splitting headaches from my photophobia make things look as if a camera’s exposure is turned all the way up—I don’t even think about my lack of seeing color outside of art.

But as an artist, sometimes I can’t help but feel broken. I’ve had teachers in high school art classes tell me that maybe having achromatopsia is a sign that I wasn’t meant to be an artist. Because of course no one wants to look at colorless—or in their words, lifeless—art.

So I keep my sketches and paintings to myself. It’s just a pastime, really. It’s not like I want to be a paid artist anyway. Or maybe I do.

Actually, I don’t know what I want. A lot of people tell me that I should know. That I should have goals set in place already. I do, however, know of one thing I want but I can’t have that either.

Summer tugs me along again. “Let’s go.”

“Really?” I don’t know why I hesitate, but I do.

Summer is still holding my hand as she pushes open the door. The bell above the door chimes, ringing a song into the air that almost blends into the music quietly playing.

There’s a woman at the counter, helping the one guest that’s in here.

The worker’s hair is in box braids with highlights—I guess based on the lighter shades of gray in her hair. The stars painted on her dark skin complete the look of someone who seems to fit perfectly in a place like this.

“This is so cool.” Summer is already busying herself by looking at the table of handmade jewelry. Like her wrists and hands need any more. “I don’t know how I’ve never been here before.”

I stand close behind her, watching the way her fingers delicately sort through the bracelets and wishing she’d hold my hand again. Or I’d be brave enough to reach for hers but I’ll take just watching her exist.

“Okay, pick one.” Summer gestures toward the rows of bracelets. I step closer now that I have the excuse of having to obviously get a good look here. Summer doesn’t try to create space.

“What are the colors?” I ask because I can’t have her walking around in a color she hates. She’s very particular about what bracelets go on her wrist.

The others she kind of just hoards.

Summer shrugs. “Just pick. Go based on vibes.”

I hum, looking down at the jewelry and trying to concentrate on anything that would give me an indication of what each one looks like but alas, nothing. So, I do what Summer says.

My hand brushes over the rows before stopping and plucking one off the table, holding it out to Summer.

Her lips purse and my shoulders drop in feigned disappointment. She snatches the bracelet from my hand and grabs another one off the table, handing it to me.

“There,” Summer declares. “You wear that one and I’ll wear this one.”

“What color did I pick for you?”

“My favorite.” She smiles.

Purple. Perfect.

Summer grips the bracelet and moves her attention to one of the many walls of paintings.

“Oh my God, I love this color,” she gasps.

I look over to see what painting Summer is looking at, dodging the canvases resting on the floor and leaning against the wall. Delcan’s Art Boutique is made up of different kinds of art that artists sell to the shop in hopes someone else will see their artwork and purchase it.

Summer steps closer to the painting of a moon surrounded by swirls of clouds. She’s quick to answer my silent question. “Eggplant.”

Instead of trying to describe what colors look like, Summer and Lily decided from an early age they’d just compare a color to food. Because trying to explain something I’ve never seen before to me is kind of difficult. It’d be like trying to imagine something you didn’t know existed and have never seen a day in your life. There’s really no effective way to explain what a color looks like to me.