It was always on the table. Ever since it was set there in a ceremonial style by the two of them.
No matter what happened after that, the fights, the disagreements, the shouting, the heartbreaks, it was there. Left there as a constant reminder of the good times.
Because the bad tempers would pass. And the light would be restored.
The glass jar of coloured papers represented exactly that. The positivity of our lives. The need to realise that it is not all black and white. That there is colour. The one we create and we are responsible for maintaining.
Also part of Friday Fictioneers