Black

She always wears black, and change my definition of black.

People with a large size like mine usually loves black. Black tops, dress, skirt, and more. Not just because the fashion expert said that black makes the one who wears it looks more slim, but it is also a safe color to match with anything.  When I have not enough time to get the best outfit, I will choose the black one. I wear it at bad-hair-day, wear it a happy party day, wear it when sunny, wear it when rainy, wear it to formal, to casual, to wedding, to funeral, just match anytime anywhere.

But she wears it everyday to the office. Top and bottom.  Black.  Quite difficult to differ whether she wear a variety of top or same pairs of trousers for the rest of the week. Always looks the same.  And, to the fact that she is skinny and boyish, black makes her appearance worse.  Additional facts, God did not gave her a pretty face yet she herself make no effort for a nice make-up, and she is well-known of her dry-humour-juicy-emails-rude-talks around this office.

Disgust to it, I realize that I do not wear black as much as before.  Whenever I saw a black outfit hang in my dresser, I start to think about her and how boring the black attached with her, and how the black made an  impression of a witch when it is comes to her.

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