I have always known purple.
It is the colour of outlandish things. Of a carpet, no one would choose. That became a tangle of cat hair. Smelling of salted peanuts, with liquorice undertones.
It is the colour of abandonment. Of the girls I once befriended but never became. That laughed loudly in dark corners. Making bad choices that turned into good stories.
It is the colour of longing. Of the wedding dress I tried on. That under shop lights and my mother’s frown turned from royal to dusty grape. Settling into traditional white.
It is the colour of unknowing. Of the circles pressed into delicate skin. That I wear under my dress, at cuffs and collar. Hiding from the light.
Rachel Canwell is a writer and teacher living in Cumbria. She is currently working on a flash collection and her first novel which was shortlisted for the Retreat West Pitch to Win 2021. Her short fiction has been published in Sledgehammer Lit, Pigeon Review and The Birdseed amongst others.
Website – https://bookbound.blog/writing/
Twitter – @bookbound2019