If you asked my favourite colour, I’d not have said brown.
I’d have said blue.
It’s true. I like blue.
But I also like things that happen to be brown—trees, coffee, and old books with older stories to tell.
It’s a real colour.
It’s not real.
Skies aren’t really blue; a mere trick on our eyes.
Neither are seas. When you get close enough to scoop it in your hands, you realise it has no colours.
But, they looked better in blue, don’t they?