The Color Purple

Write about the color purple without using the word purple.

His demeanor was cold and a smile never approached his face. Each day, the intelligent young man would sit in his throne with perfect posture and store out at the world. He wasn’t tasting compassion; he couldn’t grasp the abundance of Violet’s outside his window. Elegance and wealth covered the walls, but the man’s heart was still frigid.

Her smile and her passion were on fire. She taught the young girls in the village how to read, write, mathematics, and the history of how their village came to be. Courage bled off of her lips as she spoke words of determination. She traveled fields of gold and wealthy lands with loose soles and empty pockets.

The beautiful woman became easily recognized as a successful teacher and was requested to attend the palace to share her lessons with the man’s daughter. After each lesson, the woman would notice the man sitting alone. Instead of exiting in silence, she entered his sanctuary.

“Would you like some company?” She requested with a friendly manner.

The mysterious man glanced over his shoulder “I’ve felt alone for five years now. I can survive another day without company.” 

The confident woman leaned in closed “You shouldn’t have to live a life confined in a box.”

As the man stood up and turned around, the two instantly locked eyes. His chill started to melt as her warmth danced in front of him. Their lips collided like waves crashing onto the shore. His fingers drove through her long auburn hair as she began to send kisses down his neck. He started to whisper “With my blue and your red, let’s make…” Her finger covered his soft lips “Okay.” And from then on, the Violet’s always grew outside and inside the palace.

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