Stories by S.E. Laughter

Colors have a taste. They also have a feel. Purple is feathery. Dark blue is rich like velvet. I’ll admit, if someone told me that a year ago, I would’ve figured they were high. But almost everything’s changed since dying.

I perched on the roof experiencing the sunset. To say I was merely watching it would be an understatement. Brilliant white smells slightly of confectioner’s sugar and tastes sweet. Orange is like swimming in a warm lake on a summer day with a hint of citrus. As you can imagine, the undulating colors at sunset or sunrise are a whole-body experience. Since I no longer enjoyed the culinary delights of life, these were my favorite times of day.

I heard Elliot’s car long before I saw it. It needed a new fan belt. I was always the one who took care of such things. Elliot pulled up to the curb, coming to a choppy halt, and stumbled out of the car holding his briefcase and a bundle of flowers. My dematerialized lips grinned and a school-girl thrill raced down my spine.