Another Colour of Madness

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Entry for the flash fiction contest.

Submitted: June 07, 2019

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Submitted: June 07, 2019

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It was Macaroni Day again.  (That's Tuesday, I think.)  And at half an hour after morning meds were dispensed, the residents of Peach Wing were all, more or less, comfortably seated at their craft tables once again.  All our crayon colours were redistributed by known favorites, and Anna Whitham, our therapist, was giving instructions for today's exercise.  The static I often hear,  whenever I manage to regurgitate my pills, was already whispering; and the shuffling feet, and the small grunting noises made by my demon, as he ambles around in mine upstairs basement, had returned to trouble me again.

"Now then," she was saying sweetly with her glowing cheeks, "the purpose of this exercise is to examine your own perceptions about things that you see.  So I want everyone to write down FIVE words," she held her fingers abover her head, "that come to mind when you see the next picture.  Ready?"

She revealed our muse.  A rather ordinary photograph of a rather ordinary man boarding a train with a piece of luggage.

"But..." a fellow sufferer offered his plaint.  "It doesn't mean anything."  Then red faced he rose up to face his tormenter.  "It doesn't mean anything, you stupid -!"


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