Photo prompt © Jan Wayne Fields
She could not decide.
She knew the others were getting impatient. That they believed she ought to have made up her mind.
“It’s just a hat,” Marissa hissed, a bit too loudly to have wanted to keep Betty from hearing.
“It is,” Betty whispered. Her voice shook but she couldn’t help it more than she could stop blush from traveling across her cheeks and down her neck to meet her chest.
And yet … Mom had asked for pink … How?
Her breath hitched. No way she could admit color-blindness and not get kicked out of the new Hue You Artist Colony.
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
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