The world Skari lived in had been one of the first prototypes of it's kind. No one knew how old this world was or Skari but everyone knew of her. She has been seen, from the beginning of everyone's memories, on the river steps dancing.

Skari danced her heart out, each day, on the steps of the river. Calling to all the grey life around her, beseeching all to feel again. To feel anything. Even hatred would have started to waken the sleeping world.

Skari, reaching into her soul, pour out all the love and longing she held in her being to see color again. Praying for one plant to show the rainbow of colors she remembered. A memory now like an old dream tucked away in the recesses of her mind. Skari knew she was the last to remember.

Each day she danced in hopes the world would return back into what it was so long ago. What the world was meant to be.

Every morning, with the rise of the next planet, found Skari swirling, swirling, swirling. Ice cold water spinning from her feet to cover all grey life within her reach.

Rumor had it if you ended up with some of the sprays from Skari's wild dancing on you, your skin would turn the same shade of peach as her's. Once you turned there was no blending into the land, no blending into the crowds of people. Soon a turned person would be shunned from the villages for causing danger to all around them. They would find themselves on their own for the rest of their living days fending for survival.

No one dared touch Skari or get close to her.

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This is my Day 245: Freewrite: Prompt: prototype.

I made the photo above years ago. I happened across it today while trying to clean up my computer files. Needless to say that never got finished. I wrote what might be the start of Skari's Story. I can not promise anything but today this photo had a story to tell. I hope you enjoyed it.

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