Part 3 - Yellow District
- sjgoldsmith
- Nov 1
- 4 min read
Yellow had to be the most depressing colour, at least in Horace Hargreaves’ opinion. After being born into Violet, he found the false brightness of yellow jarring. It hurt his eyes and his soul.
The descent from Violet had happened swiftly. One day, he had it all: the mansion in the hills overlooking the city, the Whites that catered to his every whim. He had the power and respect that wealth brings. Most importantly, he had Elena, his beautiful wife.
Then, one mistake, and it all slipped through his fingers. When he’d gone down into Indigo, Elena had come with him. He’d told her that it was a blip, that they’d be moving up again soon. But he’d only moved down. Alone.
Now, he sat in a one-room yellow bedsit that he couldn’t afford. To pay the rent, he’d sold everything he had. The only things left in the room were the bed, the wooden table, and the seat he sat on. He’d have sold them, too, if he’d been able to sneak them past his landlord. Anything to put off the inevitable.
Horace sipped the beer he’d spent the last of his money on and waited.
Elena stood in the open doorway, wearing resplendent violet. A tear trickled down her cheek as she watched the man she loved being brought down so low.
‘Shouldn’t you be leaving?’ she said, wiping away the tear as she came into the room.
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