Painted Red

Mosely, woke with a start. She dragged her hand roughly across her closed eyelids, brushing the sleep from them as she peered across the room through her open window. The sky was almost completely painted red.

She stood up and rushed towards the window, the palm of her bed-warmed hand pressed against the chilly glass leaving a clouded outline of her fingers and palm. She had all but overslept and the sky was throbbing now. Streaks of ominous gold, almost like lava pulsed against the clouded face, peaking through the intense vermillion hue. Yes, the sky was almost painted red but not completely. She still had time before it began to bleed again.Painted REd

She tripped over the clutter in her room. Darkness still dominated and sleep still plagued her mind. Stubbing her baby toe against the desk cleared out the fog before her. She was definitely up now.

She stifled several expletives  and gritted her teeth as the pain ebbed away. She certainly couldn’t linger any longer. She had to medicate the atmosphere.

“Get your act together, Mosely.” She chastised herself openly. She worked alone, lived alone, and all but existed at her post alone. The only voice she ever had the pleasure of hearing was her own. If she stayed in the silence and the red too long she would lose her mind completely. Often times she wondered if it had already gone. The only person she had contact with came only but once a month and he was not big on words.

She called him  Garrison. Mosely thought his name was nearly as dreadful as hers. Sometimes she wanted to tell him so…again Maybe then he would open his mouth and say something…again. She hardly remembered his voice now. She thought it lingered between tenor and baritone.

It had been nearly a full year since she had taken this post within the West Tower of Atmospheric Medication. Garrison or Harrison, as was his real name, had corrected her then and only then about what he was called and never again afterward did he say a single word to her. Instead he wordlessly brought her her monthly rations, nodded and left without a single sound.

He would be making a delivery sometime that day.

She supposed the conditions of the world had done that to him, taken his desire to speak.  Utter shock and the aftermath of indescrible terror had that way with people at times. For Mosely, it made her sleep a whole lot more. The sky was still a perfect shade of blue in her dreams and there wasn’t a flimsy, dying membrane that hovered in between the heavens and earth to protect those who had survived the war from the blood-like matter that always wanted to rain down upon them.

Sure it really wasn’t blood but still…

Mosely finished pulling on her gear. She took the steps to the crows nest three at a time. By the time she reached the injection room she could see the sky beginning to tear open. Her heart pounded in her throat and with the quickest and most careful of hands she loaded the dosage into the injector and sent it reeling into to the dusty vermillion sky. She watched with baited breath as the capsule broke through the membrane of the barrier and released its formula within it.

The point of contact sagged and darkened before tightening up again. The threatening vermillion sky began to lighten to a sallow orange with touches of pink. Mosely let out a breath but startled at the sound of his voice.

“That was close.” Garrion said, his voice was a buttery baritone. The sound of it made Mosely’s insides quake.  Garrison stepped closer to her and pointed towards the sky. “Almost too close.” A single line of browning red slid down the face of the sky.

Mosely swallowed down her heart, the sound of Garrison’s voice and his sudden proximity took her breath away. “Yes, almost too close.”

THE END

This story has been beating against my imagination for the last few days. It came as a result of me, like Mosely, waking up to an open window and peering out into a sky that was threatening shades of red and pink. Of  course there was a storm on the horizon and the clouds in their color were nothing but its telltale signs. Nevertheless, my imagination quickly sprung into action with the thoughts of a bleeding sky and a woman responsible for keeping it from doing so.

There is another story that I wrote some 7 years ago that revolves around a sky with personality…actually its the Sun that has the emotion. It is a throw back tale that I feel inclined to post. I hope you enjoy it when it comes.

 

Cheers Fellow Soup Seekers!

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