Happy Saturday, Writers!

We have already received many fantastic submissions to The Prose Press. There are a limited number of spots to join The Prose Press publishing journey, so submit as soon as possible.

Our open call closes on March 15.

Check out the submission page for more information about the program and how to submit.

https://theprose.com/p/press

Have any lingering questions? Please email info@theprose.com.

Cheers,

Prose.

"Red!" he exclaimed, holding up an apple like it was the world's greatest prize.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," I said, laughing.

"And green, and brown, and blue! Look at them!" Charlie, despite being early-twenties, pointed at my shoes, then the tree trunks, then the sky, listing their colors. He had the biggest smile on his face.

My eyes followed his finger to the things he pointed at, and I fought to keep the smile on my face.

"Right, yeah, I see," I said, trying to match his enthusiasm. I came nowhere close, but he didn't notice. He was examining his shirt sleeve.

"But are they what you expected? The colors? I mean, I never would have imagined! People told me this shirt was red, but it's really red. How would you describe it?" He still had an incredulous smile and his eyes sparked with life.

I stared at the greyness of his shirt as if it fascinated me. "Um, I don't know," I said. "But it's red alright!" I said.

Charlie kept on chatting, and I kept on pretending I saw something other than the grey park.

- - - That Morning - - -

I was finishing up a math assignment, but I couldn't focus for long enough to finish it. I liked to come to the little coffee shop on campus to do homework and people watch. Well, mostly people watch. And there was one game in particular that I found myself playing far too often.

First, I'd stare at the whiteness of my notebook, the blackness of the pen ink, the greyness of the tables that I knew were really green. Then, I'd look up and scan the room, and wait for the colors to appear.

They never did.

Like everyone always says, they won't come until you see your soul mate. But I have this sinking feeling that I don't have one.

I glanced around: a girl was bent over her sketchbook next to me, a barista was making the order for a light-haired boy, a group of three sat in the corner laughing. And there was one other person. A boy, a cute one.

He was just as grey as everyone else, but there was something about him. He hadn't looked up from his coffee yet; he was blowing into it with single-minded focus. Maybe I had to look him in the eyes. Maybe that would do it.

So, when he finally looked up and his eyes scanned the room, I was ready. And I saw the way his face lit up in surprise and excitement, and I was looking right back at him. So, I smiled.

And then I realized what I'd done, and the chance I had. I ran over to the boy before the girl with the sketchbook had the chance to look up.

- - - One Month Later - - -

"Open it!" Charlie bounced from foot to foot, waiting for me to unwrap the gift.

I laughed and reached into the bag, pulling out a long scarf. "Oooo, soft," I said, grinning. I wondered distantly what color it was. "Thank you!"

I looped it around my neck, and Charlie smiled and took my hand. "It looks great on you," he said.

I looked down at myself. The light grey of my jacket and the darker grey of the scarf. Was it blue? "Yeah!" I agreed.

We resumed walking the path through campus. It was the same path we always took, past the coffee shop.

But something different happened this time.

A boy was rushing by, his hair disheveled and his glasses slightly askew. And I saw the light brown of his hair and the flushed pink on his cheeks and the deep green of his sweater.

"Are you ok?" Charlie asked. I didn't realized I'd stopped walking. The sky was so... blue and the tree leaves were orange and red and brown and delightful. And the boy rushing by was past us. He hadn't even seen us.

"Kid really had to get to class, huh," laughed Charlie, following my gaze.

I let out a sharp laugh. "Yeah," I said, then took a step forward. I let Charlie lead me, and we kept on walking. I looked down at myself, and I saw it. The scarf was red.