prompt 7: orange sunset


Orange. It was the color of dwindling hope, of descent into crimson. Of her hope in the clutches of Sweeney Todd. The color of the sunset, disappearing over the horizon. Mrs. Lovett clung to the railing overlooking her courtyard, her knuckles white against the dark mahogany wood. Her eyes were fixed on the setting sun, disappearing behind harsh-cut buildings and ragged skylines. It was astonishing, how something so close to yellow could be so close to the deep crimson that haunted her dreams. It was strange. She couldn't remember her dreams sinking like this, changing slowly for all to see. It was quick to her, unnoticeable.

But when she looked out to the horizon, she knew that she had realized all along.

Her dreams did sink slowly, hope turning orange then red then black. She just chose not to see.