When I moved back home from teaching abroad in Indonesia, I had no job and very little money. I kept busy, though, and one day found myself admiring a mural on the street. I met a boy there, we started dating, and I told him of my love for the French language. He smiled walking into the room one day carrying a pen and handed it to me.
“What color would you call this,” I asked as I twirled it with both hands.