Orange

I hadn’t showered in three days. It’s disgusting I know but it’s essential to the story. There had been concerts and travel and running and drinking since the last shower. I was filthy. I liked it though. It reminded me of someone I once knew. I fell asleep on a couch. The room was dark. Over to the side I could make out the silhouette of an animal. Maybe it was a cat. I didn’t know where I was. I fell to sleep almost instantly.

In my dreams I saw colors. Blue. Green. Orange. They came in that order. One would be there for an ethereal amount of time and then be replaced by the next. The cycle did not repeat. Instead my mind settled on orange. When I awoke I saw my world in an orange haze, the scent of tar filling my sinuses.

In that moment memory came upon me like a horrible specter. The tar that flooded my nose and the orange brightness that lingered before my eyes transported me back in time. I was all at once in High School for a second time. I was watching two track teams compete. The smell of fresh lain tar made my head swim ad I cheered on the home team.

One of the runners turned and smiled in my direction. I caught a flash of orange that escaped that smile. The orange came from braces. The color had been my choice a while before. Orange is my favorite color. The braces would come off in less than a month.

My memory was all at once halted by physical sensations. A cat was brushing against my leg. Where the hell was I? I had spent the night there, on the couch. The cat was a sleek black.

I left the house. There was no one home. There was no one to tell me where I was. I didn’t care where I was. My mind was still flooded with orange.

My thoughts swirled with remembrances of unfounded passions. I recalled love only half deigned. I realized that my memory was wrong.

I was never truly in love with the track runner. It was actually the gymnast. Or was the one with orange braces the gymnast? I couldn’t remember and it made my hung over head hurt even more.

I walked down the street looking for the train. I gave up thinking about past lovers. I wanted to go home.

I boarded the train. I read subversive literature. Businesspeople looked at me. Some looked at me with eyes filled with rage. Others looked at me with eyes full of interest. The back of my mind was still coated in orange.

I smiled and winked at the people on the train. I reveled in the reactions I received. A lot of them were shock and embarrassment of being caught staring. For some of the people the glares of hate only magnified. For one though the intrigue was what expanded.

I would look down at my reading and then back up catching eyes hold them there until I could almost taste the discomfort. Then I would smile or wink, once I made a subtle kissing motion. The looks I elicited made me swell inside. I took immense pleasure in playing with the strangers on the train.

Soon I stopped reading when I looked down and focused more of my attention on the game I was playing. After that I even stopped thinking of a shower and even getting home was erased from my mind.

By the time the train stopped at its final destination even the orange was gone and all that was left was me, playing with a train full of curious strangers.