AN AUTIST
One day Bean and I were driving along, me at the wheel, while she read to me from Mental Floss- smart design, enriching content! Shared nerdly bits of delicious knowledge as she tends to do. She then asks me, “What color are clouds?”
I reply, “That depends, they’re many colors,” going on to explain that so many of the colors depend on this, that and the other, and that even simple “white” clouds are shaded and shadowed in such a way as to contain elements of grey and yellow, and reflections of blue.
She looks at me, waits a beat, and says, “Good, you passed, yer a real artist,” explaining that the article she’d just read suggested that the average poyson would call em “good ol’ white,” while an autist should proclaim them most anything but.