Here’s Why I Didn’t Wear Yellow

One day, I was looking at my wardrobe collection and realized it didn’t have any yellow clothes. It struck me as weird. I felt curious — was it a coincidence, or was there a reason? If there was a reason, how could I, as the person who assembled the collection throughout my lifetime, not know about it?

I started to think about my past, but I didn’t immediately remember anything. The probability of it being a coincidence seemed low, so I wasn’t ready to accept it just yet. But then a memory surfaced:

During high school, while shopping at a store, I noticed a yellow shirt with black paint splatters. As I imagined wearing it, a wave of uncomfortableness came over me. My face was flushed, and my body was clammy. I didn’t know why. So I walked away.

But the shirt was still tempting me, calling out to me, so I glanced at it out of the corner of my eye. But then the feelings jumped at me again. Damn! It would take some real guts to wear this shirt, like gambling with more money than a person could afford to lose. So this time I ran away.

Now, it was haunting me. Before even looking at it again, I felt the tension rising. My heart was pounding in my…