Anyone can join, with a 50-word vignette in the comments. Your vignette does not have to include the prompt term.
"Oranges," called the girl, her voice melodic. The wind pulled her ragged skirt and her brown hair forward, and she braced herself with her back to it, not taking another step till it subsided. The fruits were just visible over the basket's edge. "Oranges, tangerines, grapefruit, lemons, oranges, sweet oranges."
"Orange is not a good color to wear," said Hope.
"What? Is that for reasons other than it makes me look like a criminal?"
Hope blushed red. "Well -- it also doesn't look good on you."
"And it's a fire color." Daisy stuck her head in the door. "You'd be lying."
The light here was fiery orange. It roiled out of the doorway on the mists, and only the constant color kept him from thinking a true fire, even with all the lights he had seen thus far.
He wondered if the colors had any significance. The orange might mean something.