Rudeness is Brown

I reached into my box of prompts and pulled one out. Practice writing
synethsesia today by giving something colorless (hunger, panic, laughter, etc.) color, and describing it.”
OK, here goes.

Rudeness is brown.

I have nothing against the color brown; in fact, I rather like it. Brown
shoes go with everything; brown clothes can be smart and fashionable, brown is
functional. Brown is part of nature, mingling with green in trees and in
gardens. In fact, even this blog is brown!

Rudeness, my pet peeve is brown because I remember a rude person wearing a brown shirt stretched over her overweight frame. It looked terrible on her, which was fitting. When another representative of rudeness once came into my classroom to express her feelings about an email I sent, or when she passed in the hallway and wouldn’t say hello, I have no idea what she was wearing, yet somehow I can picture her wearing a brown top. One that made her look fashionable, yet casual.

Rudeness is brown because there are many ugly things that are brown. Brown has many manifestations: reddish brown, dark brown, shirt-color brown, brown turning to black, brown turning to yellow.

Brown mixed with blood.

Brown is a careless mixture of several colors, a failed experiment in mixing colors
to make another, prettier color. Rudeness is a careless choice of words, smeared
over a beautiful person made to feel ugly.

Brown was the color of a lot of the paint spilled in my classroom because it was used to paint buildings: smears of brown on the cabinets, on the floor, in the sink,
on the wall, brown paint that was not cleaned up but instead left to me.

Brown dripping down the side of my desk. A thick brown mass sliding downward,
threatening to reach the bottom, gathering strength as it moves, like thick lava
from a volcano; rudeness gathering negativity as it flows and threatens to
engulf its victim. Lava is red, but it’s also brown, because there is a little
bit of brown in every red, every orange, every yellow. A hint of brown just
under the surface of brightness – a few drops of the wrong color brings it out.
Bright colors tinged with brown, like beautiful things with a subtle hint of something wrong, negative or intimidating.

Fallen leaves, once golden, or flaming red, or mottled green orange and yellow, curl up and die, becoming brown. Those leaves that once held beauty, the promise of happiness, are now discarded, dead, brown. They are scattered with the wind or
gather in clumps, their potential forgotten. Like rudeness: meant to make someone
feel discarded, disregarded, trampled underfoot, crushing egos.

Rake up those leaves and pile them up, like insults. Light a match and watch them