Red. The color red suited her just fine. It needn’t be the purest red, sometimes either fiery red or blood orange suited her well enough. Her moods changed, her nuances of red did the same, but she could never see herself dressed in gold or dyeing her hair pink. She needed a certain range of colors in order to feel good. It’s not that she couldn’t stand other colors or something like that, but some nuances of red meant for her perfection. And she struggled for perfection. Of course she could never achieve it, but she sure did try. The color red helped her in this endeavor of hers, but it could not be her benefactor all the time.
An inner fire, fiery red, cleansed her soul, leaving her pure as driven snow. Pure as snow, though a red snow. And red snow, however pure, cannot mean perfection. White snow is perfection. Thus we surely couldn’t call her Snow White, it would just be wrong. However, we could call her “Red-Riding-Hood“, imperfect in all her redness. Nevertheless, in spite of her imperfections, she was a damn fine creature.
This “Red-Ridding-Hood” of ours really wore a hood ( what, did I fail to mention she loved hoods?) she found in the woods and which had a special power: it allowed her to gaze into the darkness and see through the night as though the light of the moon was her true and constant companion. Granted, this may not seem like much, this hoody-night-sight ability, but since she enjoyed strolling through the eerie woods at night it came in handy. And since she was able to see through the darkness of the night, she was not afraid, nothing made her feel in danger during her strolls.
For a lonely girl she sure did walk a lot through the woods but she never felt watched. Even so, she was always watchful. Just in case. You never know. The woods might hide perils and “they for sure did hide uncertainty”, she thought, but she strolled through them all the same. She was brave like that.
She had one issue though: she wanted to see more red during her nature strolls, but unfortunately there’s not much red in the woods. Neither during the day, nor during the night. Every autumn permitted her to enjoy some more red in the woods, but not for long. And besides, even in autumn the red nuances barely satisfied her, they were not what she needed and did not suffice. The red lady longed for more. She kept searching for sources of red, but she found them only seldom and even when she did not many seemed to satisfy her. In some parts of the world there’s not much red to be found and she happened to live on the wrong side of the planet. Should we pity her? Maybe, though I am not sure. She was happy, her search for the redness of nature gave her a purpose in life. A dumb one? Why should you say that? Each for him/herself. Who are we to judge her passions? Have we not such inexplicable passions as well? Some don’t?!? Well, they’d better go find some, they can be life-changing. A little birdie told me.
Our red lady kept strolling through the woods, in hope of finding more red-pigmented being or plants. Instead of them, all around her, stood green. A nice color, but nice did not suffice. No matter how vividly green everything around her was, she longed for her color of choice. Her drug of choice. Her extreme hunger for “the” certain color kept her from getting tired. She continued her search, day after day. Unrelentlessly.
From time to time she stumbled upon some squirrels, which met her color requirements all right, but she could not feast her eyes upon them for long. She couldn’t indulge herself long enough to feel satiated. The little creatures never seemed to help her hunger, they had their own worries. They never let themselves be admired. However, she forgave them every time, she never held a grudge. She just moved on, only to be disappointed by other little creatures time and again. For example, the birds of just the right color stood still, no complaints here, but they were flawed as well: they seemed to choose only the most “obscene” of places to stop from their flight: atop the trees, on inaccessible rocks, in the middle of the lake etc., as if they mocked our feeble creature on purpose.
Though she knew they meant nothing by it. She sometimes cried because of her color hunger, but every time her tears quickly dried and she forgave all the beasts time and again. She had a good heart. But she was lonely in the woods as nobody shared her hunger. Enjoyment and loneliness went hand in hand in “Red-Ridding-Hood’s” life, no matter how paradoxical this may sound. She found great pleasure in her lonely walks through the woods, though the greatest pleasure but rarely made it’s way into her life.
Fortunately for the red girl, on a starry night, her luck changed: while on another of her usual strolls, the girl stumbled upon the unexpected: in the rotten trunk of a fallen tree, all coiled up, a fluffy creature lay in need. A fox, a blood orange fox, injured pretty badly, but nevertheless, the most beautiful fox the girl had ever spotted. Without hesitation, she helped the wounded creature out of her predicament: a stupid bear trap pitilessly caught its tail. “Why would there be such a thing lying around the woods there, as the bears were long extinct?” “Because men are evil”, the girl thought.
She brought the suffering creature to her house, walking through the woods without difficulty, despite the fact that through the thick of the woods no human being would’ve been able to see where he/she stood, much less hurry towards the girl’s house. But she managed it because of her “super-power”, her ability to clearly see even in the darkest of nights. Never before had she had any practical use for her ability-granting-hood; she just used it for making her strolls through the woods at night easier, no other “noble” purpose in mind. Just for fun. But now her piece of clothing proved its utility in the best of ways and that made the girl truly happy.
At the moment, when she decided to help the creature, little did the girl know how fruitful her rescue of the fox would prove to be. In no time they were the best of friends (as much as a human and a fox can be friends). They both had something to gain from this newfounded relationship of theirs: the girl could now satiate her hunger for various nuances of red and the fox gained a master (more of a friend, really, but still, it wouldn’t mind the term “master” one bit) who unconditionally cared for and loved it. In the end, after all her searches, the girl found a creature willing to be watched whenever the girl pleased. And a beautiful relationship unfolded. A red-relationship. The best of relationships.