I woke up with Fitz on the brain and wrote this little Scandal haiku. I'm obsessed with this show. Only two more days before we find out #WhoShotFitz!
Shades of Red
Target red. The presidential limousine door swings open and the figure of the President of the United States comes into sharp focus within the sniper rifle scope of a trained assassin.
Scarlet red. Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn, scarlet red, spreading like an exploded sun across the winter white landscape of a finely-pressed tuxedo shirt.
Ruby red. The bodily fluid that splatters the arms and face of the First Lady as she screams in horror.
Crimson red. The terrible tide of blood that spurts out of the President's mouth and gurgles and flows out of his chest like hot lava.
Fire engine red. The flashing lights of the ambulance, police cars, fire and rescue trucks that descend upon a hellishly chaotic scene filled with the wailing sound of sirens.
Lava red. The bright light of a metal detector as Olivia tries to push past hospital security and is stopped. Cyrus steps forward and says, "Let her pass." A police officer asks her to step aside and put her arms out. The metal detector wand glides smoothly over Olivia's delicate bare arms and strapless dress. The police let Olivia through because this angel, this vision of loveliness, has descended from on high to provide comfort and poses no threat to the Leader of the Free World fighting for his life on an operating table.
Seeing red. Edison, in that moment when he realizes that the fear, horror and abject misery that has clouded Olivia's normally serene features is the look of a woman terrified she's about to lose the only man she's ever truly loved.