Fuzzy

A warm, soft blanket of color

"Sometimes color doesn't belong in shapes" Penelope's brother-in-law Nick used to tell her. She thought it was a pretentious art thing, her sister seemed to be attracted to that stuff. But one evening while she watched the sun settle into the horizon the words floated across her mind. Trying once more to find something useful in them, she set aside her glasses and took in the scene unfocused. All at once, it hit her, the color wasn't contained by the shapes that she saw, it was cast about in the air itself. The shapes and forms she perceived were mere shadows and reflections of a color that was all encompassing. The color of the sun, in it's wide spectrum and inconceivable brightness, did not belong to the sky, the sky just happened to catch some of it. Penelope probably wouldn't go on to tell anyone, but it changed the way she saw Nick's art. Maybe her sister was a little wiser than she thought.