Red fades. The reason why the color becomes faint in hue after being exposed to sunlight through time is because it contains blood. Yes, blood, the blood from tiny white bugs, known as cochineal beetles. If you have a chance to pick up this small creature from a cactus and squeeze the bug’s body, you will first feel its hard scale, and then its body pops like bubble wrap and leaves a thick red stain on your palm. Since no one in town was able to resist the organic fashion, the production of these red stains mixed with metal salts has taken over the artificial red paint industry. I painted my door with this organic red. After the summer sunlight shone on my red door through the wood-framed window every day for one month, my door looked rusty pink.

I wouldn’t have noticed that the color had faded if I didn’t see myself reflected on this shining surface of the elevator while waiting to go down that morning. I was wearing a new red necktie, as red as the paint I bought in the organic paint shop. I looked at the tie, and I looked the door. They had different color. Was this reflection really I? The person in the reflection stood straight but with the head leaning to the right shoulder as if the head didn’t connect with the body, but the eyeballs were twirling to the right and left. The sun shone through the window. The shadow paved the contour at the feet in front of him. It was a man. Even though I didn’t have a sufficient reason to prove it was a man, I was sure it was not a woman. The shape of the shadow wouldn’t change much if this man standing here with his clothes on or not. As it was a dark grey shadow, of course it wasn’t even necessary to concern about the red tie. If this man in the reflection was real me, was I naked? Or did I have my white shirt in blue and white-stripe suit with a red tie on just as the man in the reflection on the shining surface? If I did, should I trust the color of the red tie rather than forcing myself to believe that the door was in the same color as one month earlier? I wasn’t sure if I was still in my sleep, and this was just happening in my dream. I wouldn’t have stood here in front of the elevator this early as the light in the hallway was still on. But I stood there. I heard “Ding”. The elevator door opened. Samuel walked out of the elevator. “Good morning, Mr. Travis.” I never heard Samuel speak that loud before. I saw the shadow on the floor have a sudden shake as if there was an electrical shock. I raised my head and saw Samuel, and I heard two cars driving by on the street. I was not in my dream. I had to go down and I had to arrive in Hambridge at four o’clock in the afternoon.