Flash Fiction - Colour Blind

He let the water run over his fingers. The coolness countered the heat within him.

He couldn’t open his eyes to look. He wished he could get rid of the fear pulsating there.

The smell of coffee drew his attention. Pulled by the smell, he reached his favourite chair and sat down to pick up the cup. The warmth of the first sip dissolved the cold tight knot in his stomach. He smiled and relaxed for the first time that morning. Only a small frown marred his pleasant face. He wished he could open his eyes. The coffee never felt the same without the enhanced flavours of the sight of deep brown luscious fragrant liquid.

He knew he couldn’t risk opening his eyes. He just couldn’t. But really wanted to give in to the temptation.

Could he? No, he couldn’t. Ok maybe he could drink coffee with open eyes, but he wouldn’t look.

He opened his eyes.

They strayed towards the cup.

With a shudder of revulsion he threw the cup across the room.

There was red everywhere. The walls were dripping red. And why was the spreading stain the same vicious colour. He had been acquitted; then why did his world turn red everyday. Why?