One hand brushed the hair from her eyes, and inadvertently spread further the daub of paint on her forehead so that, being more or less skin-coloured, it appeared to reduce the length of her left eyebrow; the other hand held a half-inch paintbrush. Clearly hoping that I would give her a logical, well-reasoned and incontrovertible decision, she moaned, ‘I can’t decide between ‘Calico Cupcake’, ‘Limpet Love’, ‘Prairie Pancake Dawn’, or ‘Crumpled Neolithic’. What do you think?’
I looked at the wall she was gazing at with such intense concentration and knew that any sort of logic – the sort she was looking for – was way beyond me. The cream wall had upon it four recently painted, four by four squares of ... cream, I had to say cream, of also-cream paint on them, and I could only see those because the paint, still being wet, caught the light from the window and shone.
‘Um,’ I said, trying to sound if I was giving it an acceptable amount of thought. Nothing occurred, so I repeated ‘Um’ and then, with a flash of inspiration, asked, ‘How much? How much does each colour cost? Per tin? And what's the stated coverage?‘
It was not the sort of answer she was looking for.
One Word/Sentence Two (Friday): In the second sentence include the following word: Prairie