When the first clue, "Mint," appeared on my screen, I’ll be honest—my brain went straight to the kitchen. I was thinking about flavors, herbs, or maybe even those little chocolates you get on a hotel pillow. I also considered the financial angle, thinking about where coins are made. I held off on guessing because "Currency" or "Flavors" felt a bit too narrow for a world-class puzzle.

Then came "Green." Now, I was almost certain I had it. Mint and Green? It had to be "Colors" or "Plants." I was seconds away from typing in "Shades of Green," but I hesitated. In Pinpoint, the game loves to use words with multiple meanings. I started thinking about what else "Green" could mean—like a "green" employee who is new to the job.

The third clue, "Novel," was the absolute turning point. This is where the "Color" theory completely fell apart. While a novel is a book, as an adjective, it means a "novel idea"—something brand new. I looked back at "Mint" and "Green" through this new lens. A "mint" condition car is a new car. A "green" recruit is a new recruit. The pattern was starting to emerge.

By the time "Fresh" hit the board, the "New" theme was undeniable. Fresh start, fresh produce, fresh off the press—it all points to the same temporal quality. It reinforced that we weren't looking at physical objects, but rather a collection of descriptors for things that haven't been around for very long.

Finally, "Unused" was the safety net. It’s the most literal of all the clues. If something is mint, fresh, and novel, it is by definition unused. At this point, I was confident that the common thread was simply synonyms for the word "new." It’s a beautiful progression from specific, metaphorical terms to a very literal conclusion.