Red

She had once tried to talk to one of them. They had said “feel free to chat to any of us about absolutely anything that’s on your mind.” Given that had been at the beginning, when loved ones had come and observed the clean labyrinth corridors, the smiling guardians on every door post, and the fogged eyes of the older bodies. She had tried to talk to the round one, with curly red hair and small, wide set eyes. “Do you like red?” she asked. The women's small, wide set eyes turned to cracks. “Don’t be rude” she said.