colors

We pull out of my station for the morning's subway ride to the office.  The conductor: "This is an important messages from the MTA, New York City Transit.  Please do not hold the doors open by sticking your blue backpack in the rear of the train into the doors.  Thank you for riding, and have a good morning."

I exit onto the midtown sidewalks behind a prosperous mother with her little boy's hand in hers, walking beside her.  He's perhaps 4 and she is pointing out basic building features to him as they walk along: "That's a sliding door.  That's a column.  Those are stairs.  That's a drain."  He seems half interested, but then stops and points his fingers, "Oh, Mommy, look at that!"  She looks in the shop window and says, bringing him back to pace, "Oh, that's just a design."  They go on.  A second later I pass and look in to see a boldly patterned rug, crimson and canary yellow, hanging in display.  For those who care to see it: bright above the drain.