Blue. A noun. The pure color of a clear sky. The primary color between green and violet in the visible spectrum. An effect of light with a wavelength between 450 and 500 nm.

Blue. A name in Jeremy’s Skype contact list. A favorite one, in fact, standing above all others as if on a pedestal. It’s there, even though he doesn’t know why. It appeared one morning, out of nowhere, to claim a spot on the road to insanity. He thought of blocking it once, twice, three times, but never went through with it and, to this day, it’s still in the same place, taunting him with its impossibility, insinuating itself in its lips through constant, rhythmic repetition.

“You’re the one whispering,” he mutters to himself, transfixed at the screen, mouse hovering over the name and its non-existent information. Nothing is associated with it. Blue is just blue, two consonants and two vowels in succession, a colorful riddle to challenge all riddles, and turn his Sunday into curious agony.

He drinks his cup, pours another, and goes for the third. He avoids the sugar to focus on the bitter, to feel it wrap around his tongue, savoring the bad until the good emerges from its center, but coffee remains dull to him no matter what. It’s brown and tertiary as opposed to the primary blue. It exhausts itself rather quickly when compared to the infinitude of blue waters, blue eyes, blue…

But what if he could? What if he were just to hit that circular blue button, make a call into the unknown? What would the blue show him? What would it say? Would there be any other colors in waiting, or just a pool of dark, cold emptiness? Dreaming is easy but making dreams real is an adventure of its own, one that many yearn for so badly but only few stick with it. “Last call for bets in the fantasy roulette,” the croupier announces. “Will you go with red, black… or blue?”

“Well done,” Sapphire congratulates him, watching his droopy eyes through the laptop’s camera. “I knew you couldn’t resist.”

Blissfully led, untroubled, enraptured.