I asked my friend, "What does green taste like?" and she said:
"It tastes like peace; like nature; like watching a sunset on a hill in the park; like fresh mint and warm woolen gloves; like curling up on the couch beside your lover, to keep warm even though the snow has already started to melt, revealing patches of grass eager to drink in the sunlight again."
I asked my friend, "What does blue taste like?" and she said:
"Blue tastes clean; like water; like blueberry muffins; like mouthwash; and fresh, like the sky is clear and the air is cool, like winter before the temperatures drop and the snow falls; like a friend pulling you to your feet after you've fallen."
I asked my friend, "What does red taste like?" and she said:
"Bitter and angry, blood and ketchup; a juicy hamburger too soon off the grill; burnt pizza, and the burnt tongue that lingers. It tastes like nervousness, your heart beating so fast as your crush asks you out; like passion (and passionfruit), comfort and contentment; achievement and triumph over adversity and struggle."
I asked my friend, "What does purple taste like?" and she said:
"It tastes like plums; like fashion; like the icicle snacks we had as kids that turned our tongues different colors. It tastes like rebellion and hair dye and eyeshadow and yet it tastes like royalty and jewelry and greed."
I asked my friend, "What do oranges taste like?" and she gave me an exasperated look.
This work by Benjamin S Wolf is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.