The cream-coloured sky hung like suspended milk above their heads, dappled with clouds of lilac and tainted hope. Cerulean leaves blew past them in a hurry to go nowhere just as the rose tide rolled in, curling and lapping at the maroon-tinged sand. The chill played hide and seek between their ribs, tickling emerald bones while the spectrum continued its deception.
Yes, the shades had shifted. The colours collided. But any inkling of dye dripping into a picture is better than black, white and grey.
After all, monochrome is no way to live a life.