In the City of Colors, the morning would start with the sky turning into people’s feelings, not just blue. When the sun rose, the streets were covered with a soft pink mist that showed the joy of children who had just woken up. Around the students on their way to school, bright orange lights shone like excited lamps. When you walked past a friend who had an exam, a light gray cloud over their head would immediately show their worry. But when you smiled and said, “Good luck,” you could see that gray cloud suddenly turn into sparkling yellow.
At lunchtime, the city square turned into a real rainbow. Green sparkles jumping around people playing in the park accompanied their happy laughter. No one asked, “How are you?” because everyone could see the colors leaking from each other’s hearts. When you saw someone sitting alone in a corner, covered in a dark blue mist, you knew they were sad and wanted to go to them to warm their color. It was impossible to lie in this city. Even if someone was smiling, if they were hurting inside, their color would stay a pale purple.
When evening came and everyone went home, a warm golden yellow—the color of peace—leaked from the windows into the street. The tiredness of mothers and fathers turned into a soft turquoise when they hugged their children, filling the whole house with a calm light. Even when darkness fell at night, the city did not go completely dark; the glowing colors from the rooms of people having beautiful dreams lit up the road like streetlights. Living in this city was like a magical journey where you could read everyone’s heart without using words.