Of that purple light I was afraid.
I crouched in the street, covered by shadows from a devilish star, weeping at the purity that was once my shoulders. White. I thought the parasols would illuminate the alleyways and passerby in variegated shades. I wanted to soak in those secrets. But they were white. I stood, burdened by their ironic diffuse.
Just last night I had prayed for snow. Was this my answer? The filtered sunbeams lit a mockery of my desire. My shoulders ached with such truth, I could not free myself.
It was in darkness, alone, that I departed.
* * *
Thank you for reading! This is part of a micro fiction series where I take a photo and write a story inspired by it. Each story is 100 words.
If you enjoyed, you might like this one:
About the Creator
Mackenzie Davis
“When you are describing a shape, or sound, or tint, don’t state the matter plainly, but put it in a hint. And learn to look at all things with a sort of mental squint.” Lewis Carroll
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Copyright Mackenzie Davis.
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Comments (2)
Gosh, I found this to be very deep and thought provoking. Truly well done!
This is a curious little tale and one that you've managed to fit so much substance in for just 100 words. Really well done - plus that is one weird picture! lol!