So, school's winding down! I do realize most bloggers seem to be out of school (which, considering no school = at least 100 times more convenient, well, I can understand). I have one more week left, during which we have finals and I will be studying like a madwoman. Well...trying to study and not be distracted by the much more interesting internet. I know, good luck with that.

Updates on graduation and BDIB: I'm wearing the pink/black dress from JUDay, and pairing it with black wedges I got in Spain, and a simple gray jacket. Undecided on other accessories, though. As for BDIB, I have a working outfit. I'll shoot it today after school, and update it tonight.

In the meantime, I figure I might as well share a short story with y'all. It was written for a creative writing contest at school. The theme was 'colors', and my color was yellow. The color had to be in the name - mine actually was almost eliminated, but the word 'lemon' saved it, and repeat a motif of the color throughout the story. Traditionally, yellow means cowardice, but then people also think of it as a "happy" color, so...I played with that. This is what I came up with:

The Color of Lemons

Did it matter? She couldn't recall how it happened, just that it had. She'd failed. She'd been a betrayer, a coward, the worst kind of existance. Now she was a sick gold, not a piece of the old existence. Everything had changed when she hesitated. Who would have thought a fraction of a second could cause so much pain? She hadn't, not till it happened. So she sat on the rock in this strange place, and stared at the sun. How long she'd been here, she didn't know. It seemed endless as the sun.

Sometimes, she didn't quite remember her name. Maybe it had started with M? She didn't know anymore, really. There was a sound, but not anything concrete. Maybe it was that she didn't deserve it anymore. She wasn't the girl in gold now, was she? She was just yellow, sickly sweet. She matched the flowers around the rock. Why was she sitting there, hating herself? There was more to do among the flowers, anyhow, and the sun hurt to look at. She liked the flowers. And sometimes, she remembered their names. So the girl with maybe an M for her name and a sound became Daisy, because the daisies matched her, and whatever cowardice she had displayed. She displayed them in flaxen hair, and sat in the wind, now noticed. Why had she been here for so long?

It could have been a century or a minute before she realized there was more then the sun and the wind and the rock and the grass and daisies around the rock. There were strange trees nearby, and so, heedless of all else, she made her way towards them. There was hardly any yellow among these growing things, until she saw a bird. A pure yellow, bright as the sun, gleaming in the trees and watching her. The bird became her sight, and it was all she saw. Everything became lemons once more, till it had consumed her. But she saw other things again, eventually. She left the bird behind, unsure. Daisy had been who she was moments or eons ago, but now she was something else. Bird. She found water, and buttery fish. Something remembered for something lost, an exchange of equivalent value. Butter for cowardice. What was the shame she carried for? So she sat and stared and did not see yellow.

She wandered to other places, exchanging words for meaning, names for other names, and one breath for another. She still saw yellow, and she would pause to savor it, because yellow was different. Shame had been replaced by happiness, fear by laughter, and she was gloriously yellow, forever changing.

Hope you liked it. I'll get back to more fashion-y stuff tonight.


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