This morning Yellow sat down at the table and recalled the lady on the train.
She had passed to Yellow a flask of green tea, the leafs of which were floating around in the water that looked stagnant like a pond.
The lady began telling Yellow how she had gone “cold turkey” on coffee years ago and instead drank the pond water to fill her yearning for the rich dark drink she no longer permitted herself to enjoy.
The lady was Scottish with short hair and a long face. She had a son who she sang about and a husband who she told me was waiting for her in Cardiff.
This is where the train was heading: Cardiff.
This was some years ago. Yellow is several years older, but the way she had offered to Yellow the tea and insisted that Yellow drink from the same flask as she has never really left Yellow’s mind.
theimpressionsofyellow 