pale green; pale green glazed pottery
It was Manzy’s idea to go out. It was a Sunday and she was feeling particularly green she said. I hated it when she went all green.
Nothing ever seemed right and all day she’d bitched about going to celadon as that was where she felt most comfortable.
It was an unpleasant journey, with a rough track and if you didn’t wear your green sunny’s the haze and the glare would result in you having the worst sort of green headache and if you’ve never had a green headache you can thank your lucky green starts because they are the worst. Throbbing and then aching, throbbing some more and aching especially when the green moss of the Café Celadon was served on green toast accompanied by a green tea that always tasted more black tea than green. But that’s the thing about green, you have to believe if it looks green it is.
Mansy said she wanted to go to the green glazed pottery workshop, she had this compulsion to see and feel green glazed pottery. There was something about the feel of green glazed pottery that set her off, settled and made her more romantic than she might ordinarily be.
So, after the arduous journey, we turned up at the green glazed pottery shop. By then, of course, she was all a green with expectation and who was I to take it from her. She positively glowed upon entry.
Upon one wall, there stood the most magnificent green glazed pots, a sea of green to the naked eye and she did for a second or two blend in such that I thought she had been consumed by the pots.
Wishful thinking on my part as she emerged clutching a small green glazed pot and held it up for me to see. For four hundred Celadon dollars, we could have it wrapped and carried home, in a gift box which as it turned out came with a particularly attractive green bow.
By mid-afternoon laden with our recent purchase, firmly in her grasp and all the poorer by four hundred green dollars we left Celadon and all its green. Mansy was now calm having taken well and truly her fill of the green that is Celadon.
She said she felt all green again as we journeyed the rough track back home. I looked across as we arrived in our driveway to see her eyes had returned to a natural green, her skin its smooth self with just a touch of green to match her hair which always after a trip to Celadon remained green and often iridescently so. This made sleeping for me a green glazed nightmare.
Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/05/21/writing-prompt-sunday-may-21st-peculiar/