Colour

Scott Tierney

Description

The colour was everything that made existence worthwhile, distilled into a single hue. It was magnificent. It was affirming. It was all that mattered and all that one would ever need.'It was like... it was... it was impossible to describe without seeing for oneself...'In this unnerving short story from Scott Tierney, discover the origins of The Colour, its effects on an unsuspecting world, and the future it creates.

Sujets

• Historical fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Andrews UK
• Date de parution: 30 octobre 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781789821840
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

The Colour




The Colour
First published in 2019 by
Acorn Books
www.acornbooks.co.uk
Digital edition converted and distributed by
Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
Copyright © 2019 Scott Tierney
The right of Scott Tierney to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Any person who does so may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The Colour
Scott Tierney



*
What, you may ask, would compel a person to stare at nothing but a small luminous rectangle for such periodic and prolonged lengths of time? Were you to intrude upon such a person’s attention and enquire as such, these unresponsive gazers would, eventually, haul their eyes up from their mobile phones and admit that they could not tell you – or rather they could not articulate their reasoning.
The sensation, they would profess as though recounting a dream, was indescribable. The single colour displayed across their device’s screen, embalming their faces in soft magenta light, and the emotions it elicited was impossible to put into words – in much the same way that the feeling of ‘love’ is immeasurably more affecting than the accumulation of four individual letters placed beside one another in a row.
And the colour, those who had seen it would uphold, was infinitely more profound than anything as trivial as mere love...
The colour – for it had no official name and none was ever deemed to have done it justice – was above that of any comparative shade, pigment or tone; far greater than any blending of arbitrary paints on a palette. It was bliss epitomised, a blanket of contentment and happiness and serenity and armour, woven from the strands of joy itself.