This week's prompt is a random title generator. I rolled #9 and #4 (from respective lists). The result follows (I went with flash fiction, just under three hundred words total).
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The White Keeper
Jenny meets me in the glade. "Ten minutes," she said.
"I know." I lean back against the nearest sturdy tree and stare up at the colorless sky.
I glance at her.
Her royal blue lips draw my stare. She folds them inside her mouth, gently, just for a second. "You need to go."
My next gesture indicates the sky. "Why is it beige?"
"Why are you beige?" She shrugs. "I needed the blue."
"You needed it?"
"There aren't many of us left."
"That's not an answer."
"I don't have an answer."
I look away again. "What time is it now?"
"If I don't come back ..."
"I know." She doesn't touch me ... can't, by law. "You'll find someone else."
"Marry one of my own kind."
"If I don't come back blue."
Half-shrug this time, just one shoulder. She gives me silence.
I push away from the tree and take the path behind me to the ceremony site. Silence hangs in heavy folds in these woods.
Miriam meets me at the edge of the site. Her lips are entirely silver, her hair and skin just veined with it. That makes her royalty. She holds out her hands. "Stop."
I pause. "Is this part of the ceremony?"
"There won't be a ceremony."
A shiver tracks down the back of my knee. "What does that mean?"
"I can't let you pass." She shakes her head. "None of us knew."
"White?" My hands tingle. I glance down. Stark white seeps from my fingertips up my hands and arms. "How can I be white?"
Her eyes hold some ancient sorrow. "You're not welcome here among the colors. You're the new soul harvester ... the White Keeper."
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