flickr photo credits: (1) Serenae (2) spacedlawyer (3) bionicteaching (4) Serenae (5) Serenae
Five Card Story: The Color of the World
a Five Card Flickr story by Trinity Carlise created Oct 17 2013, 01:05:39 am. Create a new one!
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It seems as if the color in the world had faded away along with the delight that a Ms. Ainsworth held in life as she stared out her window at the multitudes of flour sacks outside her manor. It was a sad time for humanity for most things had long since passed but she belong to the good guys. Her husband had moved her to the rural area of her country where things were worse than in the cities. Here, her husband could do more good for their country and she was not in a position to argue. She was still one of the few who got to take part in the few pleasures life still held as she was the wife of a general. While the masses of people were given flour and barely, Ms. Ainsworth enjoyed a quiet breakfast of yoghurt while she read an old mystery novel. She was sheltered from the harsh realities life held and preferred not to think about the rampant starvation just outside of her home.
That morning however, there was a loud commotion outside. "They must be out of flour." The woman sighed as she closed her book, finding it impossible to continue reading while there was screaming outside of her window. She was told never to look outside when these things happened but her interest piqued when she heard a gunshot, prompting her to inspect the situation. Her eyes widened in horror as she beheld the crumpled body of a woman lying before her husband. She watched as the man casually brushed off the dirt from his coat before leaving the woman behind. Ms. Ainsworth watched as a child hesitantly approached the woman's body, nudging it in a desperate attempt to get the woman to move again. The child looked up and Ms. Ainsworth found herself trapped in his gaze. With piercing eyes, the child, small and hungry, glared at Ms. Ainsworth. He lumped her with his mother's murderer. Murderer. A small trail of dirt was streaked across his cheek as he brushed away his tears. In that moment Ms. Ainsworth felt the hatred of the country's people...and instantly she questioned if she really was one of the good guys. The woman looked away when a guard forcibly drug the child from the scene. More earnest screaming that tore at her heart. She instinctively reached for husband's liquor cabinet, an action she had seen him turn to so many times that even though she had never drank herself, she had a feeling it would ease her fears. The once sheltered, carefree Ms. Ainsworth disregarded her proper upbringing and drank from the bottle that morning. She drank until she could stand the burning sensation in her throat no longer...but it still wasn't comparable to what the child must be feeling, she reminded herself...so she drank more. For the first time in Ms. Ainsworth's life she became incessantly drunk but the dirty feeling never went away. She stripped herself of her expensive jewelry and makeup but she still couldn't place herself among the masses.
Her husband came by later that day and scolded her for her drunkenness and improper appearance. She was slapped for questioning why her husband shot the woman, "She was just hungry - she didn't deserve to die!" She argued in vain for her words fell on deaf ears. Her husband sent her to the spare bedroom in the tower to think about her actions but all Ms. Ainsworth could think of was the piercing gaze of the orphan and the lifeless form of his mother whose only crime was hunger. Truly, the world had faded of color if such a basic need was punishable by death. Ms. Ainsworth was sick. Sick of how she took needlessly and how it was encouraged that she partake of all that money could buy. It was sickening to her that she never knew the horrors of life outside of wealth...and even more sickening that she was powerless to help. She peered outside of her window once more and stared at the grey sky, seemingly heavy with her guilt. This was the color of her world: grey and lifeless.
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