“But I don’t see why she insisted on that colour,” said his wife, “it’s just so … inappropriate.”
“Well she’s always felt that it suited her,” he said, “she called it vibrant.”
“You should have refused. She always could wind you round her little finger. What will people think?” She shuddered.
“Well it’s too late to change it now, so people will just have to ignore it, and think about the person inside instead.”
Secretly he agreed. His mother had looked dreadful in red, but she’d been adamant and she usually got her own way.
He turned and followed the red coffin into the church.
(This week’s challenge for the 100 word story was ‘… the red box’ ) 🙂