Crimson. Scarlet. Ruby. Garnet. Vermilion and rouge. Rose and cherry. All ways to say one word, one idea, one color: red. The color or life, say some, but it is also the color of death.
The color of a soldier's blood on the battlefield, impaled on an enemy spear. It floods the earth, soaking in, coloring it a brilliant, deathly shade of crimson. Millions have lain, dying, in that pool of horrifying, beautiful, morbid, blood red.
The color of a newborn child, squalling in its first breaths of air. Blood pumps through tiny, ruby blood vessels, suffusing the skin, turning it to a delicate shade of rose.
The color of fire, roaring in a brick red hearth, illuminating the room in a soft, scarlet glow. It dances, leaping, twisting, turning, in its crimson cage, seeking to be free to turn the world into a roaring inferno of fiery red. Wildfires leap, howling out their desire to redden the world to their hellish view.
The color of spellfire, of magic, hanging in the air a timeless moment before disappearing into the colorless air around it. Constrained to a vermilion glyph, it brightens the area in a soft, ruby light. Spellfire, marking the edges of safety and danger with a harsh, garnet glow. Warnings of life or death wrapped into one.
The color of sunrise and sunset, the cherry color marking the beginning and end of night and day. Clouds abandon their former color to take on the vivid, luscious hue of scarlet. Reflected from the sky, the ocean mirrors its celestial counterpart in a shade of crimson
The color of a fine glass of wine. Catching the light, it glows a clear, exquisitely fine hue of burgundy. Intoxication, it causes, placing a fine mist of blood between a person and their senses.
The color of life and death. Red: one color, one idea, one word. Cherry and rose. Rouge and vermilion. Garnet. Ruby. Scarlet. Crimson.
Summer of 04
Note: This story (or not-story) won second place in the Gr. 10 Prose writing contest.