Posted in Micro Fiction

The Wrong Colour 


Us Yellows aren’t snobs, it’s just … well you don’t see many of his sort round here. Noticed him when I came out of the gym. Ignored him of course, who wouldn’t? Somebody might’ve be watching. What if one of the neighbours had seen me talking to him? When the medics found him it was too late, he was completely grey. He’ll be a Grey now for the rest of his life, poor sod. Apparently if I’d called the colour paramedics, chances are they could have saved him. Maybe I should’ve said something, but don’t forget he was only a Purple.


My Drabble Project – Day 19, Story 52



Now that I'm retired I have more time to devote to writing my blog and creating short stories.

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