1940

"Who is that guy?"  says Melissa to me as I start filling the sink, first hot water, liquid soap which drips out an astonishing shade of sapphire blue, and now I am adding the first of several dirty plates and utensils to the swelling foamy mix. "We saw him on the road just a couple of miles from here", like my father before me, I never quite got used to thinking in kilometres.  Curiously, I work well with kilograms and celsius. "He looks familiar." I am just opening my mouth and suddenly remembering that he has told Kenny and me to know him as Ethan, forbids any words from coming out.  Instead, "I am really starting to notice colour these days." "Colour is everywhere " she replies, picking up to dry the first plate I have washed. "Like the beautiful intense blue of this dishwashing liquid." "Isn't it beautiful?  And did you notice the colours that the dude on the bike is wearing?  That is the most glorious and intense emerald-malachite green I have ever seen.  And those golden shorts of his." "That shade of green", say I , "Always suggests the number seven"  The plate I am rinsing has a particularly lovely pattern of deep crimson and gold lines in  fluid art nouveaux intricacies.  "And gold is number four." "Do you have synesthesia", asks Melissa...