Black never comes back, because it never goes away.
Black has been my constant, steady, reliable fashion companion and confidant since I was old enough to feel angst. And when the angst goes away, the black is still there, pure and angelic.
A black cashmere turtleneck sweater is as angelic and pure as a heavenly choir.
I’ve strayed from my choir, sometimes wearing red and turquoise together in rebellion. My deep, dense black companion doesn’t care, chuckles to itself, and waits patiently for my rebirth.
Then, it slaps me on the bum. Reminds me how flattering the choir is. We have black tea, and watch film noir, and paint black outlines around our eyes.
Black is not the negative of white. Black is an angelic choir.
- Original Prompt: New Sensation