What is the colour of nostalgia?

The sun was stolen this morning.

This morning, in my three-year-old nephew’s story, the sun was stolen and so the dump truck took a ball of fire into the sky, but he got lost – he got lost in the purple galaxy. My nephew waited, hands hovering, to know what happened next. At some point in every story, someone tries to solve a problem, and gets lost instead.

Some days, I want to comb the…