Colors //Lams

Ginger

The second time I saw Alexander, everything was warm, like a dull orange. I wanted to wrap myself in it, I wanted to exist in that for a good while. I loved the excitement and the noise, but this was so quiet that I couldn't help but fall in love. What a color, what a feeling.

The coffee shop that Alexander had texted me was everything I didn't expect. He was so well put together, I expected a modernized black and white place, clean and filled with neutral tones. But this was on the outer edge of town and lined with wooden panels and the workers were dressed in tight flannel and jeans. It smelled like — you guessed it — ginger. Dull orange with a hint of sugar.

And Alexander wasn't in his customary work outfit like he had been in the café. He was wearing skinny jeans and a blue jacket, his hair pulled back in a ponytail and his arm draped over the back of his chair. He smiled as I walked in.

"Hey, John!"

I smiled, sort of nervous. "Hey. How'd you find this place? It's neat,"

Alex nodded to the seat across from him and I sat down. "My boss caught me working for 24 hours straight and made me sleep, then when I woke up he drove me here and told me to stay for a few hours. It's calming; helps me destress,"

I nodded, relaxing a bit. "Why'd you work for 24 hours? That's super unhealthy,"

He chuckled. "I had a series of essays to work on and also writer's block. It resulted in many hours of pain, and I refused to go home until they got done. And yeah, it was not the greatest for my health,"

"Where do you work?"

"Law firm. I work behind the scenes, not a lawyer, more of an aide or a secretary. Is the café your full time job?"

"No, actually. I'm studying veterinary classes online, and I also have a job at the adoption center on 6th street,"

Alexander lit up. "Cute. Do you have any pets?"

I blushed a little. "I have a turtle, his name is Christopher,"

Alexander grinned widely and his voice dropped to a loud whisper. "My secret is that I have a weakness for small animals. Could I meet Christopher sometime?"

I nodded. "You could come over tonight, if you'd like. I wouldn't mind going downtown with you,"

Alexander put his hand over mine and squeezed it gently. "I think I really am bisexual. And I would love to go with you,"

I felt something shift in my chest. "We should get some coffee then we can go, alright? I'll pay,"

Alexander nodded gratefully and followed me to the counter. He ordered black coffee, I ordered some ginger drink. It tasted like Alexander's memory, like the time he was staring out the window when we met.

Red for beginnings.
Ginger for memories.