[ WP ] A man/woman is grayscale color blind . S/he can see individuals in full color when they are having either the best or worst days of their lives .

Some days the lack of it felt normal. Victoria could usually forget that other people got to experience the color always, that they weren ’ t constantly looking around for some glimpse of it. But then she might see some hint of red splashed across someone ’ s cheeks, their faces full of passion and joy. She would notice the brightness in someone ’ s blue eyes when they were welling with tears. She would see these little mentions of color in peoples ’ hands, the discoloration of calluses on a palm or on someone ’ s fingers, or maybe notice the bright manicure on a young girl. She always glanced around looking for some small sign of it, because if she could notice one small thing then the rest of the person would light aglow, and she would see them engulfed in hundreds of colors. She only got the chance to see it on rare occasions. She was looking for people at their best, or more likely, the ones who were at their worst. 
 
 There were a few places she purposefully observed on a daily basis to see it; the cemetery of her town often had hearses passing through, carrying new widows or distraught parents. On the weekends she would usually sit on a creaky wooden bench in a popular flower garden. Beginning mid-morning, there would be bridal parties taking photos and she would stare as if engrossed in her favorite film. Usually the brides were lit up, outshining everyone in the party. Though she was used to the whiteness of their dresses she was most interested in the flush of their cheeks, or the shiny highlights in their elaborate hairstyles. Her favorite was catching the glimpse of blue they often had hidden somewhere. One of them might lift the hem of their dress as they shifted poses with their new husbands to reveal the soft satiny color of their high-heeled shoes. 
 
 She lived quite happily, despite her disability. She carried on normally and had only told a few people about her inability to see color in the world. She had tried more frequently to explain to people when she was younger. She remembers a few occasions where she would explain her colorblindness to have someone react, “ I have deuteranomaly! So I know how you feel! ” Then she would smile and try to relish their empathy. Usually she would lie and offer, “ I have Achromatopsia. It ’ s the rarest form of colorblindness. Doctors liken it to living in the movie Casablanca. ” She would let out a little laugh, lightheartedly, to show she wasn ’ t bitter about it. Explaining it that way emphasized the romance of it, she supposed. 
 
 She often relives her earliest memory in her dreams, late at night. She was holding her mother ’ s hand in the grocery store, just a few months after receiving the false diagnosis of monochromacy at an early childhood checkup. Walking among the aisles, they heard a loud noise. Victoria glanced up and one of the few cans that had been knocked from a shelf rolled to her feet. There was an elderly man collapsed to the ground. His wife who had been standing a few feet away, examining the soup cans, rushed to his side, abandoning her own cane. Her mother scooped Victoria up as she began running down the aisle, when she reached the couple, she set her daughter down gently, and began shouting for help. She took his pulse as she spoke gently to the older woman hovering next to her, calming her whilst urging her that he would recover. Victoria stared at the older woman. She was reminded of her own grandmother, who she often stayed with when her mother worked long hours at the hospital. She noticed something faint in the woman ’ s moistened lips, some warm tone she had never seen before. She blinked and the crow ’ s feet at the woman ’ s eyes shifted to varying shades, another sight she ’ d never seen. Soon the woman was engulfed in colors. Victoria reached out to touch the woman ’ s flowery dress, full of pinks, purples, and light blues. The woman, whose green eyes were red and ringed with sadness, took Victoria ’ s hand in her own before turning back to stroke her dying husband ’ s face. 
 
 One day, Victoria woke before her alarm sounded. She went to her closet and pulled out a yellow dress, one of her favorites, it had been her mothers, and the day she wore it had been the first and only time she ’ d seen her mother in color. The bright pattern of the dress had looked lovely across her mother ’ s wide hips. That was the day her mother met Daniel, when they went out to dinner for mother ’ s day a few years ago. Daniel had been their waiter and he ’ d brought them a bottle of champagne, putting his finger to his lips, which were a dark brown, similar to his eyes. Victoria had noticed the color of him the moment they had walked in; she specifically requested that he be their server for the evening. Her mother and Daniel were married just a few months later. 
 
 She often dreaded the next time she would see her mother ’ s shining eyes for the blue she now knew they were. But then she worried she may never see her mother ’ s worst day, that she may never see her mother in color again, and the thought of that scared her most of all. 
 
 She shook these thoughts from her head as she got dressed for the day. She was brushing her teeth and flossing when she saw something at the back of her throat. Her tongue was a bright pink. Her heart rate quickened as the deep brown color of her eyes came into focus and she saw the little flecks of gold surrounding her pupils for the first time. Her cheeks were flushed, her brown hair shiny. She now noticed her short shaggy hair had a certain lightness to it when she turned her head just so. She dug through the drawer, looking for a slim tube of lipstick she ’ d purchased a few months ago for some special occasion that hadn ’ t yet existed. The color was ‘ Russian Red ’ and as she let it drag across her full lips, she felt the silkiness of it, savoring it. She carefully drew a gold eye shadow over her eyelids. 
 
 As she got herself ready for her day, she felt herself wavering between worry and joy. She was either about to have the best or worst day of her life. It was an odd feeling. It was her first day in which she could see herself in color. But she realized she didn ’ t want to look at herself so much as examine the way people looked at her. Victoria wanted to study the way they reacted to her yellow dress and her red shoes. She just wanted to enjoy it. She wanted to call her mother, but she knew her mother would only worry for her. She decided she would pick up some flowers and bring them to her mother at the hospital before she had to go to her own appointment. She took one last lingering look at herself in the mirror and she smiled. She wasn ’ t sure which day it would be, but she realized in that moment that she really didn ’ t care. 
 
 
 
 ** This if my first WP story, so I'd really appreciate any feedback!
