Flash Fiction: Indigo & Violet


Indigo & Violet

by Sean C. Wright-Neeley

Violet Jones stood scowling backstage in their dressing room. Her arms were folded tightly under her breasts. She refused to look at her husband, Indigo. “Baby, I know you’re mad,” he said, softly, “but can we talk about this after the show? They’re waiting for us, and the preceding act is nearly done.”

“I know,” she huffed, “but I’m even too upset to perform. What the hell’s the matter with you, loaning one of our best cumulus cloud chairs to your sister without discussing it with me first? It was a wedding present!”

“I’m sorry,” Indigo said, putting his hands on Violet’s shoulders from behind, “I truly am. Yes, I should have talked to you first, but Blue is family and she needed one. Hers turned cirrus; wispy. We have others. I figured we could spare one.”

There was a banging on their dressing room door, followed by a desperate cry, “You guys ready? Rain’s act ended ten seconds ago, and he’s stalling for us!”

“Coming!” Indigo yelled back.

Violet uncrossed her arms, and turned to face Indigo. “I love you, but we’re supposed to be a team. Don’t make decisions without me.”

“I rarely do that, but Blue didn’t have a comfortable place to sit in her home. And I think the real issue here is that you don’t like my sister.”

Violet twisted her mouth. She couldn’t deny that. Instead, she muttered: “Well, I can’t be mad at you for being a thoughtful brother.” She stepped forward, and planted a kiss on Indigo’s lips, ruffled his midnight-blue hair. He smiled.

“How do I look?” she asked, stepping back and twirling in a flurry of purple ruffles.

“Beautiful, as always,” Indigo answered.

“Then let’s go out there, and wow them,” she said softly. Violet then smiled, grabbed her husband’s hand, and they both tore out of the dressing room.

The others looked peeved, but relieved to see them, as they milled around backstage. Red frowned, and hissed, “You held up everyone!”

“Sorry,” Violet said, “it won’t happen again.”

Red turned away, and pulled back the sky curtain. She whistled, which was the cue that Rain’s performance was done, and theirs was ready to begin. “Places, everyone!” she stage-whispered when Rain started his exit.

Red linked arms with Orange.

Orange linked arms with Yellow.

Yellow linked arms with Green.

Green linked arms Blue.

Blue linked arms with his sister, Indigo.

Indigo linked arms with his wife, Violet.

The seven colors then did a graceful, unified slide onto the gray sky set. They had no speaking parts, but they were to remain tightly linked, and not move for some time – until they got the Sun’s cue that she was ready to take over the stage…

People on the ground stared up at their formation, in happy awe, as always, completely oblivious as to how much hard work it took to make a rainbow.

Sean C. Wright is the author of 7 books. For more information about her writing skills and how she can assist you with yours–business or consumer–visit https://seanarchy.wordpress.com.


10 thoughts on “Flash Fiction: Indigo & Violet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s