One morning, the world woke up dim. Bananas were grey, lemons were white, and the sun looked like a tired coin.
“Where’s yellow gone?” people wondered. Painters searched their palettes, gardeners stared at their daffodils, and even the bees buzzed in confusion. Without yellow, nothing felt warm.
Meanwhile, in her bedroom, little Mila noticed something odd. Her ex-yellow crayon shivered in her hand like it had lost its coat.
“Where are you hiding?” Mila asked. The crayon wriggled free and rolled under her bed. Mila crawled after it, squeezing into the dark.
And there she found it. A golden glow, shimmering like sunlight in a jar. Yellow was curled up, sulking.
“Hello, yellow. How are you?”
“I’m tired,” Yellow sniffled. “Nobody ever thanks me. They only notice blue skies, green fields, red roses. But without me, what would the sun be? Or the smiley faces? Or the bumblebees?”
Mila thought carefully, then whispered, “Without you, the whole world feels sad. You’re the laughter colour. The happy colour. The sunshine colour.”
Yellow’s glow brightened. It stretched, then whooshed out from under the bed, spilling across the town.
Bananas gleamed golden again. The sun blazed awake. Daffodils nodded, and the bees buzzed happily. Children laughed in the playground, painting suns and stars with wide, yellow smiles.
And Mila’s crayon? It lay quietly on her desk, glowing just a little, as if keeping warm from within.
Robert Walker 