Primary Colours

Primary Colours

A Story by Hamkar
"

Now this piece came from the land of which the story speaks about...

"

Primary Colours

She was the child who had endured more than the adult. Mystery and memory surrounds her, her stories unique and amazing. She talks of her land where the sun rises from the west and birds don’t fly north, where butterflies sing, and rainbows dance.

It is only me who doesn’t wonder, only me who sees through her mask. She wasn’t born Saffron, nor born yellow. She was brought into the world red, with the name Scarlet.

Why did she change?

Pain, longing, sorrow, nothing less than raw living is the answer.

Sisters are blessings, or at least for Saffron they are, her sister was named Azure.

Was.

They were twins, yet so different. The war was young, but Azure was younger, she wasn’t aware of the danger that happened near her perfect garden. All day she would pick flowers, hum, and dance to ballet in her dream, just like any little girl would.

But the War was there, the danger presenting itself.

Saffron changed her name, trying to rid herself of the memory of looking in the mirror, into the face of Azure. Her curly golden hair crumpled under her body. Her eyes half open, the bright blue shining from the sun.

There was the yellow, the blue, and as Saffron looked further the third primary colour.

Red. Scarlet.

Her own name tricked from her neck, down her shoulder and touched the ground. Saffron screamed in silence, matching the scene to the picture. Saffron lay down beside Azure, pretending to also be dead.

But she wasn’t.

She couldn’t be dead too. Life carried on, Scarlet was Saffron, or Scarlet died and Saffron emerged from the ashes of pain, longing and sorrow. The name Scarlet was too hard to bear, the memory too hard to live with, so Saffron it was too come.

Yellow like her curly golden hair.

© 2010 Hamkar


Author's Note

Hamkar
What do you think? Can you guess what happened to Azure?

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Reviews

"It is only me who doesn’t wonder, only me who sees through her mask. She wasn’t born Saffron, nor born yellow. She was brought into the world red, with the name Scarlet."
...a beautiful line:-)
--but the mood changes...
" The name Scarlet was too hard to bear, the memory too hard to live with, so Saffron it was too come.

Yellow like her curly golden hair."

God--a great somber story!!!

james:-)

Posted 13 Years Ago


this is a wonderful piece of writing filled with emotion, images and wonder.
my heart went out to these characters that had to grow up so quickly and rush through their tender childhood


Posted 13 Years Ago


I love it. Although I must admitt I am a bit confused. But delightfully confused.

Posted 13 Years Ago


It's beutifully written!

Posted 13 Years Ago


I love art and the mingling of colours to find and fill the world... Your story brilliantly paints and plays with such a depth of life and tragedy... I only wished there was more. It pleads to fill more lines!

Posted 13 Years Ago



Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

224 Views
5 Reviews
Rating
Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on May 29, 2010
Last Updated on May 29, 2010

Author

Hamkar
Hamkar

Nelson, New Zealand



About
Hi, I'm Hamkar. I like reading and writing. I think Juicy Writing is the best writing help I've seen so far. I lived in France for ten months. I can speak a bit of French. I think it is fun.. more..

Writing
Playground Playground

A Story by Hamkar


An Eyeful An Eyeful

A Poem by Hamkar