Colors
"Can you describe colors to me?"
Cora looked down at her daughter, raising an eyebrow at the question. She slowly set aside the bills she'd been paying, laying them on her desk. "Colors?" She echoed her daughter with slight confusion. Born blind, Amara had never seemed all that concerned that she would never see the world and had never held much interest in color.
“Yeah, colors.” Amara settled more comfortably into the chair set beside her mother’s desk. There was an expression of keen interest on her face, and it piqued Cora’s attention.
“Why the sudden interest?” she asked, and Amara shrugged. Cora’s eyes narrowed, but as Amara couldn’t see it she said, “Amara?”
Amara huffed softly before she answered. “I just want to know how you’d describe color to a blind person.” At Cora’s silence she added slowly, “It’s kind of like an experiment. I’m seeing what different people say for different colors.”
Surprise made Cora’s eyebrows climb higher, but she simply nodded. "Alright, alright. I can explain them to you." She hesitated, unsure of what to say next. What could she say that would make any sense to the girl? How could she explain the colors of the rainbow to someone who had never seen anything but black? Cora shifted her position as she continued pondering what to say.
“I suppose… colors are a whole collection of things, all put together." Cora paused, gathering her thoughts. She wished she’d thought of an answer to this inevitable question earlier. “Red… red is the attention getter. It’s the first color you see in a collection of colors and makes you notice it. That’s why fire engines and warnings signs are red, people want you to notice them.” Amara nodded, her expression thoughtful.
“Green is kind of red’s opposite. It’s… gentler than red, less in your face. Most people say it’s the color of spring, when everything’s new. I think that green looks like those moments that you’re at peace with nature. Blue is similar to green in that respect. It’s peaceful and pretty, but it’s sad too. It’s the loneliness of the sky and the energy of the sea.” There was an expression of genuine interest on Amara’s face now, and she leaned forward. Cora paused again, licking her lips. Red, green, blue. What other colors could she describe? In the moments Cora took to gather her thoughts, Amara grew impatient.
“What about black? Or yellow?” The questions were asked with an eagerness that hadn’t been there before, and a smile slipped across Cora’s lips.
She shifted in her seat, running a hand through her hair. “Black is all the colors mixed together when you’re painting, and it’s how you feel when you’re alone. It’s what I think lonely anger would look like. Yellow is the opposite. It’s warm and reminds me of that feeling you get when you drink hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day. Kind of warm and happy and sweet all at once.” A small smile spread across Amara’s face at the description, and Cora felt a small surge of happiness at her daughter’s expression.
“Do you need any other colors described?”
It took Amara a few moments to answer, and when she did, it was just a simple shake of her head. “No, I think that’s enough.” She paused, and then said quietly, “Thank you. I know I’ll never see colors, but at least I’ll know what they’re like.”
