The Color Purple

The air was warm. The sun was periodically poking out from behind the clouds. There was a line of people standing outside the window at the coffee shop. We were sitting in the shade of a Live Oak tree on a patch of crushed granite beside the sidewalk along South Congress Avenue.

Trudy was reading the paper. The dog sat in her lap. I had a book in mine but was mostly listening the women at the table next to us.

Some of the women were young. Some were not. They all seemed very hip, which was no surprise given the part of town we were in. What caught my attention was when they started talking about their husbands. You see this crowd did not exactly seem the type that would be, how shall we say, chatting about their husbands. Nevertheless they were.

I must change the color in the bedroom, the youngest one said. It is ruining my love life. Four walls of purple makes it seem like a dungeon. Then she repeated herself, as if to make her point crystal clear, The purple is ruining my love life.

An older woman to her left then spoke. What shade of purple is it? Maybe I should try it. I need some protection.

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Jo's Hot Coffee
South Congress Avenue
Austin TX

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