Stolen Colours by Carmilla Voiez.
It came from the darkness, my jealousy, and extinguished all competing shades: laughing yellow, purple desire and vibrant red excitement, smothering them beneath its black shroud.
I was woken by relentless buzzing beside my pillow. A professionally sympathetic voice shattered my dreams and robbed me of hope. “We’re sorry. We couldn’t save her.”
Behind the viewing window, my impotent tears desaturated the yellows, purples and reds of your battered flesh that someone had carefully arranged on a silver trolley. The knowledge that you made me do it was scant compensation as I drowned the sting of loneliness with amber liquid.
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