Nilah's color shading

Nilah was shading a banyan tree in her notebook when she accidentally used two crayons at once. The light brown had snapped, and when she pressed it down, the green underneath peeked through. She rubbed again. The two mixed — not quite brown, not quite green — and something new appeared. She stared. It looked like a leaf that had fallen three days ago. A little tired. A little alive.
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She tried to name it. “Green-brown” sounded boring. “Tree-wet” was closer, but not right. She flipped to a fresh page and began testing combinations. A layer of yellow on top made it too cheerful. A dark pencil over it made it look like pond water. She kept going, adding pressure, then lightening it. Still, the color from before didn’t return.
At lunch, she didn’t eat much. “Too hot?” Appa asked. She shook her head. “Just trying to remember something.” After eating, she ran to her sketchbook. She looked at the first page again — the one with the banyan tree. That patch of color still felt right. She stared at it, then gently touched it with her finger. It felt warm, but that might’ve been the sun through the window.
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That evening, Nilah tore out the page and folded it neatly. She slipped it into her small box of things-that-don’t-fit-anywhere — next to a feather, a piece of dried jamun skin, and an old ticket stub from when she sat on the top deck of the town bus. She still didn’t know the name of the color. But maybe, she thought, some things don’t need names. Some things just need saving.