Blue is the only colour. They all look at me as if I am crazy. I'm not crazy. The sky is blue. The sea is blue. I have blue swimming trunks, a blue bucket, a blue spade, a blue towel and a blue lunchbox. With a wave of her hand, Mum makes them stop sneering and laughing. I love Mum. She wears a blue slide in her hair, for me. I spot a small lump in the sand. "Look Mum, it's a red stone." I put it in my bucket. Mum's hand flies to her mouth. A tear appears in the corner of her eye. She smiles triumphantly. Nobody is watching her. Nobody else sees her tear and her smile. I'm not crazy. I'm special. So is my red stone. Blue is not the only colour. There's red. Mum knows. Now she can wear a red slide in her hair.


fiction by
Alva Holland

image by
kerry rawlinson