Friday Flash: Red


That was where it all happened. Right there. And it is a wretched tale too. How you ask is it wretched? It just is. It just is in the way it left a bad taste in the mouth.

There was whistling, and flags. The Scorpions singing Wind of Change on the radio. A buzz and the song was stuck in repeat. Almost like a noisy silence.

Who would say if change was good until after. But if it came upon us suddenly it would sweep us off our feet and cause us to fall on our face, flat. In pain. Unpreparedness. There they were, unaware of the creature that was about to pounce upon them. They sat silently sharing their meal, both thinking of anything but the other. Things were a sort of stale, and staleness may have been what baited that wind. There was much bribery for the other’s love, a pulling of strings that followed a loss of trust, and just plain being together. The kind of being together that is without depth. The depth that is meant to come with what is beneath just the being. Much taken for granted. One of the other.

It came in a flash. Men on bikes, with flags. Baseball bats and such. Sweeping through town clearing it off anything white and red for they believed in blue. Just blue. Little did they know it was blue that suffocated them. T’was blue that cut them off from their souls leaving a hollow carnal shell. They came, they took and then after that it turned red. Red before the white. The chaos, before the silence.

After that, the whistling remained for a long while more, and the song on the radio kept playing, haunting the silent town. With a noisy sort of silence. And the two of them floated to the heavens into the clouds.


Freed by the wind of change.

Friday Flash

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