“How does it taste?”
“Purple,” I answered.
She raised an eyebrow, “It’s purple soda, but what does it taste like?”
“Purple,” I answered again, my own eyebrow raising, the corner of my lip curling into a small smile.
“If it’s purple it must be grape flavored,” She said, her annoyance beginning to show more openly.
“But orange soda tastes like orange doesn’t it?”
“No, it tastes like oranges, and purple soda should taste like grapes.”
“Grape jelly doesn’t taste like grapes,” I said, taking another sip. “Grapes are more tart and burst when you bite into them. Grape jelly is too sweet, and its melody is too consistent.”
“We aren’t talking about jelly, we’re talking about soda, and you don’t like eating grapes anyway.”
I nodded, “Yes, but I like this. Purple’s your favorite flavor isn’t it?”
“Color, and anyway not that shade. I like a lighter purple.”
“I think they have some diet in the fridge.”
She glared at me again and walked toward the refrigerator. Her red hair bounced a little as she walked, keeping time like a metronome. She was angry with me again, but that would fade like a smell you get used to after a while.
I’ve always liked her smell. It reminds me of ocean waves, not the salty air, but the roar as they crash over the shoreline. In our early days when I couldn’t say “I love you” I said “you smell good”. She would smile and say I smelled good too, even though I knew I didn’t, not in the way she does.
I took another sip and rolled the liquid over my tongue. If I was lucky it would be dyed purple and I could enjoy the color of the soda for an hour or so after I’d finished it. She says I drink too quickly, but that’s only because I can’t wait to taste the next color. But I’m in her parent’s house and I should probably pace myself out of politeness.
She walks back over to me and she is in better spirits, though her eyebrow is still raised. “All they had left was Mountain Dew. I suppose that tastes yellow to you.”
“Green, actually.”
“But the soda is yellow.”
“Yes, but the can is green.”
She is smiling now, “You don’t lick the can do you?”
I shook my head, “That would just be silly.”
[BTW] : Ben Trube, Writer 
Why no blue soda? What would that taste like?
I didn’t want to make it a sad story 🙂
I love you, and I love that you like the taste of purple.
I love you too Little Red Haired Girl! Glad you liked the post 😉
I think this may be my favorite piece out of all your writing, forty-minute though it is. What do you think about that?
Thanks Brian, that means a lot. What’s funny is that I actually wrote the story in about 25 minutes. I really liked your post today as well.
I was smiling from beginning to end of reading this (in fact I still am) 🙂 I love the creativity and how I felt immediately engrossed in the story.
Glad you liked it! This one’s one of my favorites as well.
My fave line: In our early days when I couldn’t say “I love you” I said “you smell good”.
Sweet. 🙂
Borrowed a bit from the first season of Boston Legal, and kind of an inside joke between my wife and I. Glad you liked it!
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I really enjoy your writing, Ben. It motivates me to write more, write better and post.
Thanks so much 🙂 I look forward to reading some of it. Glad you’ve liked the stories.
Thanks for following me on The Mother Root Blog!
Having followers is very encouraging.
I’m working on launching my fiction blog soon!
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Great story! I just stumbled upon your blog and it is good so far
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