A Writer's Cramp entry, of dreamtime reds |
| Smelling crimson, the queen of a populace poses reclined on rose-petal robes where once she lay with royalty. Seeing red, a murderess exacts revenge upon past attackers (who got away - as it turns out - with nothing). Hearing Scarlett, the hero hunkers down to hide; watching her tantrum firsthand, he plots an ill-fated flirtation. Tasting cerise, honeybee confectioners confer with past pollinated primrose, blooming under moonbeams. Touching ruby, a princess hefts gem-encrusted scepter, passes it hand to hand in anger and fells it on a memory. |