Purplish

She has a purplish face.

These figs are purplish brown.

The skin is changing to a purplish red.

I walked again. Around 15:00, I found myself in Tim Hortons café again, this time for an Earl Grey tea with oat milk. At first, in the hall, there were only I at one corner and a lively olive-skinned black-haired man sitting at another corner. The sunshine bathed the hall through the bay windows. Then, a threesome African family sat and ate, then left. Some multiracial kids came to sit and read printed books. A familiar big-bodied Japanoid came in, holding a big plastic jug with dark purplish juice liquid inside. He ordered a pinkish red slush drink, and he sat a table in front of me. He was wearing a brown checkered jacket, green shirt, and blue jeans. He carried a big green sack. He plugged earphones into his ears.

In the afternoon of the 29th of June of 2025, I ate Filipino purplish ube pancakes on the blue-sky sunny verandah. I walked to Tim Hortons café to enjoy an Earl Grey tea with oat milk and a Turkey Bacon Club Artisan Sandwich. There was a handsome Filipino mestizo with his family. There was an Eastern girl in an elegant white dress. There was a First Nations man. On my walk, I saw my ufologist Dane-French friend Michael in a hurry to get home, so that his ice cream in his knapsack wouldn't melt.