One story.

I adore color. The shade of skin under your nails, the color of lust in a lover's cheek. My favorite hue came from setting Celeste Chienne's cape on fire after the class Halloween parade. It resembled the inside of a pumpkin and then suddenly both the joy of an emerald and the fury of a sapphire...all inside a pumpkin. I call that one Celeste's Cape, which sounds like Celestescape when you say it fast, which I don't.

When I got older, there were more and more colors... the stormy gray of arguments in the eyes, the heartshattering death-white, the vivid, sparkling rosiness of sex, that hungry brown. Once though, color left me. It was like swimming with no water, and continuing to swim and swim... Those times are gone and I don't like going back.

Mother and Father were always good to me, even in my "peculiar ways" as they would call them. Elle a des façons particulières! they would say. Pants were a no-no. But he wants them and I let him have them when he asks. Mother and Father never understood me when I said the human body can't hold just one. Like the world can't hold just one color. There's so many. There may be more in me. Faescape is another lovely color. And that is pronounced as one word. But that's another story.