Free your ride: #5
Here is the prompt:
Now, write:
He hated the color green. “But I’ll put it everywhere you want. Fuck, you want a green dog?”
She smiled coyly, and her eyes were blue as blue as blue. “This is not so much green as it is pine.” She pulled a straight line in the upturned lid, smeared pine, a darker shade of green. She rinsed her painted finger tip in the sink.
Their bedroom was green: She called it sage. The bathroom was green: She called it mint. The living room was green: She called it jade. And room by room he obliged every hue, ceiling to floor, until his shoulder ached. “Fucking green,” he muttered sinking into his dirt brown recliner. It would not go, the recliner. He refused. He wondered how long before she pointed it toward the door, to replace it with everything wine. It was to be her new accent color, shades of plum and burghundy splicing across their living space.
“It needs another coat,” she told him, fingering the corner of a patterned swatch.
“That’s purple,” he said.
She did not look up; dismissed him with a quiet, breathy, “Merlot.”
