A Purple View

Purple. A sea of purple. A sky of purple. A twilight world. It was written that sunsets were once golden. That must have been a long time ago.

Somewhere beyond the thick, bilious clouds – it was said – there were tiny pinpricks of light called stars, like their own sun, but much, much further away. And you could distinctly see them, unlike the sun, which was hazy at the best of times.

The water churning against the shore left a froth and a slime against the rocks, but the rhythm still soothed, and the caw of the seabirds echoed timelessly, down, down through the ages… maybe as far as the stars.