What Colour Would You Like It To Be?

Is death black, or can it be white?

Damn the young surgeon who had told her in front of the child that there was nothing they could do.

Nothing.

Not a thing.

Don’t they teach interpersonal skills in med school these days?

She knows she’s dying. She’s old enough to know. Keep her comfortable. Stay with her. By her side. In John’s bed.

She’s seen little John being removed from the ward. Never came back, the poor child.

It can be any colour you want it to be, my child. Would you like it to be white?

I want it to be turquoise.

Like the sky in granny’s unfinished painting.

Like the pebbles in John’s colouring book.

Was John’s turquoise you think?

Was granny’s?

Will yours be?

I want the same colour as you, and granny, and John.

It will be, my child, if you want it to be.

 

(c) Ash N. Finn, 2017

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16 thoughts on “What Colour Would You Like It To Be?

  1. Haunting. In a word. For me – Death sends his child, a daughter. She visits me in my sleep now and again. She’s on my blog, when she’s been around again. Death and I have a long established relationship. To me he’s black in color. Or white as in Japanese culture.
    Forgive me. My ramblings aside – I have another talent to follow and fill my reader. Thank you Ash.

    1. Thank you for sharing your thoughts, this is intriguing. To me, the creative space is a very visual and dreamlike one. What usually helps me enter it is to start with a drawing, and that triggers the writing.
      “Dreams are the guiding words of the soul” – I’m with C.G. Jung on that one.
      And thank you for following my blog!

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