Red Coat
Aching and sneezing, I bring a drabble for the day.
On the Street Style Aesthetic blog, which is photographer Wayne Tippett's collection of his street-style pictures (as the name implies), he posted this amazing photograph of Italian designer and style icon Eleanora Carisi. I was struck by the contrast of the winter park and the very urban woman. I was struck by the red.
And so, "Red Coat", inspired by that contrast and that image:
Her spiked heels pierced the dead leaves underfoot as she prowled. The sharp rustles and soft growls filled the quiet wood.
They knew she was coming, and they ran. She moved faster.
Red was her coat and hood, red the sleek dress-skin underneath. From one clawed hand dangled a bonnet not her own. No one knew which previous victim had lost it along with her life.
She wasn’t a creature of many words. If she caught you, they whispered, you wouldn’t have time to plead. She was too fast.
She wore a red riding coat, and she was the Wolf.
On the Street Style Aesthetic blog, which is photographer Wayne Tippett's collection of his street-style pictures (as the name implies), he posted this amazing photograph of Italian designer and style icon Eleanora Carisi. I was struck by the contrast of the winter park and the very urban woman. I was struck by the red.
And so, "Red Coat", inspired by that contrast and that image:
Her spiked heels pierced the dead leaves underfoot as she prowled. The sharp rustles and soft growls filled the quiet wood.
They knew she was coming, and they ran. She moved faster.
Red was her coat and hood, red the sleek dress-skin underneath. From one clawed hand dangled a bonnet not her own. No one knew which previous victim had lost it along with her life.
She wasn’t a creature of many words. If she caught you, they whispered, you wouldn’t have time to plead. She was too fast.
She wore a red riding coat, and she was the Wolf.