Yellow Gets Around

   Like all colors, I was born in the sun. I am bold and primary. I confess I am not much for family. My pale siblings either stink of urine and repulse me, or they bore me. My scent is of freesias in the spring, tangy and sweet. When it rains, you will find me curled around a pretty girl protecting her from the damp. Or I might be an unfurled umbrella brightening the gloomy street.

   Often I spend time on the sidewalk, showing off the latest style of inlaid rubber wheelchair ramp with cushiony raised blisters and a gentle slope to the street. I don’t care for the old-school curbs the city makes me enhance, but I love those ramps.

   City engineers want me to marry Black. They say we make the most noticeable couple to the human eye. I’ve dated Black and the truth is he’s way too leery to be any fun. He’s always spelling out the words SLOW or CAUTION when he gets near me. I’m not interested in Green or Red, either. Too often they use me to moderate their perpetual bickering about whether drivers should stop or go. They need me because I’m bright, but I would rather scoot down a spiral playground slide and carry children as they romp.

   I don’t crave attention; I want to be rich. When I met Diamond, people called us Fancy Intense. One time, the state treasurer of Denver, Colorado found us in a safe deposit box of unclaimed goods. You might have seen us in a show on PBS. Don’t even ask how we got in that bank. I really can’t recall. He said we were worth $15,000 as an antique ring and could be sold to benefit the people. That was a wild weekend.