By Ash Zhang
“Green, My favourite colour is green.”
“What shade?”
My favourite shade of green was a little darker than the first coming of spring, following the faint whispers of petrichor. A little between emerald and less saturated than grass. My little ecosystem was just growing when I met you and it flourished under your care. Perhaps because I hoped for it to look a little more beautiful it was better taken care of, for the leaves to shine a little more and flowers to be a little brighter. Diligent watering when needed, and fed just enough just to accelerate growth. You helped after all, why wouldn’t I want you to be taken aback by the beauty of this sprawling conservatory spilling with gorgeous green?
You loved it.
So I nurtured more and more, adding varieties and diversity to the plants in my collection, placing them on shelves like trophies to display. Bamboo towered into the sky while light peaked shyly through the monstera leaves. Pine, philodendrons, eucalyptus, all different shades of the glorious green that reflected your eyes. How hard would it be to keep your gaze fixed here with me and my plants to show you how glorious this life could be? The ivy crawled up the arches and sneaked through the shadows aching to keep you in their ranks.
Before your gaze never left mine, hands held.
Now it’s never here.
Perhaps I simply wanted to keep your attention on me. What would it take? Would you look here if I caught your eye once again? Maybe my plants need to be a little more, better, brighter. And so I collected and hoarded, a once orderly garden overflowing with greenery, none quite cohesive yet a desperate attempt to improve. I drowned them, and as they gasped for air what more was there to do than commit the cruelty of gavage? Philodendrons, ferns, and reeds all compounded together, suffocated for space. What I had attempted to stuff down their throats drained away to the algae that flooded the lake in blooms, gleefully feeding off the recklessness of my actions. The once cerulean pond stained a disgusting layer of chartreuse, robbing air from the life underneath.
What are the chances you’re a little colourblind and got your colours confused?
Was that why the garden of your new little obsession was red?
Their greenhouse was filled with fiery roses and covered in maples. Poppies, geraniums and petunias flooded the view with scarlets, crimsons and vermillion. The saturation was so bright it hurt to see, scalding the corneas of visitors. Perhaps my green was a little too safe for you and even when autumn comes all my trees can give in comparison is dusky fall colours that pale in saturation to their bright ruby.
When did our easy conversation in spring pass to those warm shades of fall?
I neglected my little project from then on as the plants I had treated with such care withered. Harvest passed by without its rewards collected as the plant rotted away to the ground. The leaves fell to dust to the ground and packed together to form layers of chocolate brown. Cold winds blew by without a care as I hacked the evergreens away at the root. All you left behind was decay as you latched onto another, more vibrant garden to deteriorate.
When did your love for me dwindle until all that’s left were the leaves of adoration trodden on the floor of worn paths, now left forgotten?
“What’s your favourite colour?”
“These days I’m not quite sure I have a favourite colour, you know?”
“But if you have to choose?”
