The following is a short scene inspired by The Red Dress Club‘s RemembeRed prompt from April 15, 2011.  But I don’t want to say what the prompt was till after you read these 300+ words.

This piece is set on my fictional world of Kingdom Come.  Although it is not related to any of the books I’ve finished, I do know what happens later, and this is a part of that.  Hopefully, the post is readable and understandable even if you are visiting my blog for the first time and have absolutely no idea who the characters are.  Even if you have been here before, Royal has only been mentioned in passing…

The World is Not Blue   by AmyBeth Inverness

Royal sat in the luxury suite of the station, holding her mother’s hand silently.

The queen had not expected to be a dowager so soon.

The center of the suite’s living area was a circle of transparent aluminum, and the planet below came slowly into view, then out again as the station rotated to provide what felt like gravity.

“Why is it so blue?” the dowager queen asked.  “That is not its true color.”

Royal looked past her feet, down to the swirling white clouds of atmosphere over oceans of blue and lands of green.  She looked up into her mother’s eyes, wanting to know.

“My memories of our world are not blue.  They are not cold.”

Royal remained silent.

“My memories of our world are not green.  They are not that fresh.  They are raw.”

The planet fell out of view, and they looked out at the stars.

“My memories of our world are not black… though they are sometimes dark.”

This last statement came out of the dowager queen slowly, as if those dark memories were playing out before her farseeing eyes.

The planet came into view again.  White clouds claimed a significant portion of the sphere.

“Our world is not white… though it is pure and good.”

Royal waited one whole rotation before her mother spoke again.

“It is not blue… though it is deep.”

Another rotation.

“It is not green… though it is very much alive.”

Royal gazed at her mother’s face, the tears long since dry, though the exhaustion of ending a long and glorious reign was clear in her eyes.

Royal’s mother drew her tenderly into an embrace, stroking the princess’ hair as if she were still a little girl.

“Our world is passionate.  It is warm.  Even in the coldest of winters, there is fire in our people’s hearts.  It is alive.  It is pulsating.  It is raw and real and visceral…”

Royal  looked in her mothers’ eyes, receiving her blessing, and finally spoke.

“It is love.”

Now that you’ve read the story, I can tell you what the prompt was:

“Give me a memory of the color red. Do not write the word ‘red’ but use words that engender the color red when you hear them. For example: a ruby, a tomato, fire, blood.

Writing has the elegance of mathematics. Try to write economically. A red cherry is redundant. Cherry is enough unless it’s one of the yellow ones from Washington state. Then it’s a yellow cherry. But, otherwise, cherry immediately wakes up the color red in the mind.”

Constructive Criticism is eagerly anticipated and much appreciated!