Writteriffic Assignment Lesson 4: Personify a color

The assignment: Personify a color, make hefty use of a thesaurus.

What I turned in:

I chose to write about one of my favorite colors. You can only see it for about ten minutes in the morning and maybe five on certain evenings and then, only on days with proper conditions. It really doesn't have a name (that I am aware of) but if it were a crayon, perhaps they'd call it Herald. 

I am a color, not yet named. 
Though a body could be lain to rest never having seen me(if that body were given to much sleep or staying indoors)
I assure you that I am. 
I ride the rim of the rising sun and throw back the shades of last night's sky.
With a blast of golden trumpet, I herald the coming of a newborn day.
I bathe the infant in splashes of light and wrap her in blankets of pink and glowing orange.
I have written her name in the clouds with lifting birds, she will be called Possibilty.
I tip-toe from the room, leaving her to dream and wake and do.
 I will return in the Golden Hour, to see what she has become.
 "Beauty!" I cry, forcing the oversized sun into an inky sea suitcase.
 I pull the starry lid behind me, and wink at you from the horizon. 
"I'll be back, when the day is new, and I'll have more ideas for you. You'll have things you want to talk about...I will, too." 

  

Attribution Footnote: quote from https://youtu.be/K1Dvq0cDRsI

Writeriffic Assignment Lesson 2: Complete the prompt

The assignment was to choose one of the provided prompts and complete it- with as much of a twist as we could muster.

I chose the prompt: "Looking at Paris in this light..." 

Looking at Paris in this light, Adkins could almost forgive the rookie his dumb mistake. Almost. 

Like the flashes of amber waxing and waning over them from atop the ambulance, Lieutenant Michael Adkins alternated between looking at the shape of his mangled partner on the stretcher and out into the fog-drenched darkness of Seabridge Avenue. Too terrible to look at and too terrible to ignore, Mike's reflexes kept snapping his attention to Jimmy's face and just as quickly away. 

On the stretcher, Officer James 'Paris' Frenchy, lay unconcious and bleeding. His badge dangled from his uniform and his left eye socket was empty. 

 Adkins sighed heavily into the thick night air. Tonight's shift already felt a year and a half long and he hadn't even begun the paperwork. So much paperwork, and tonight, it would all fall to him, obviously. 

Whether Paris pulled through or not two things were certain: tough conversations must be had, either with Frenchy or his sweet young bride and paperwork was still the piper who would be paid. 

Adkins mindlessly pulled the pen from his shirt pocket and, turning toward the open ambulance doors, gave it a decided click. 

It was time to take names.