The mood turns purple, meaning sad but with sexual overtones. At least that’s his mood. He’s also the one who made things sad to begin with.

There are too many kinds of beer in the store. He stands bewildered, frozen by the vast choice before him. Communists had it easy, he sighs.

The posters covered the abandoned storefront, ads of joy and ads of gloom. The kid was just learning to read. I’m confused already, he said.