I like the colour of the sun.

No, not the oranges and pinks and purples and reds of the sky when it sets.

Most people only appreciate those.

The colours in those final moments before it disappears, perhaps forever.

Funny that people only truly notice beautiful things when they’re gone.

No, I like the colour of the sun itself.

What colour is that, you might ask?

After all, you can’t even look at the sun for fear of going blind.

So how can you like the colour of the sun if you can’t even look at it?

Is it orange, like in the diagrams?

Or maybe white, like science tells us is the brightest possible colour?

Or maybe it’s just a brown lump of rock and we’ve convinced ourselves it is something it’s not?

What is colour, if not a societal construction?

How can you like a colour that doesn’t even exist?

Easy.

The sun is the colour of that tiny glimmer of hope in the most hopeless of times.

The sun is the colour involuntary laughter amongst floods of tears.

The sun is the colour of an unbreakable promise of return.

It’s the colour of the absence of darkness.

It’s is the colour of

Light.