‘So, she’s a redhead?’
‘No.’ I said thinking of scarlet poppies and pillar boxes.
‘Ginger then.’
That made me think of biscuits and the powder in my spice cupboard.
‘Nothing like,’ I replied
‘How about auburn.’
I mulled that over for a while.
Auburn was a reddish brown, which aptly described my granddaughter’s hair, except her hair was more than that, it was lustrous, the spectacular colour rich with golden highlights that shimmered in the sun.
Finally, I had the perfect word:
‘It’s Titian. It has to be because to me she’s beautiful, a real work of art.’
‘No.’ I said thinking of scarlet poppies and pillar boxes.
‘Ginger then.’
That made me think of biscuits and the powder in my spice cupboard.
‘Nothing like,’ I replied
‘How about auburn.’
I mulled that over for a while.
Auburn was a reddish brown, which aptly described my granddaughter’s hair, except her hair was more than that, it was lustrous, the spectacular colour rich with golden highlights that shimmered in the sun.
Finally, I had the perfect word:
‘It’s Titian. It has to be because to me she’s beautiful, a real work of art.’
