Obscure Red

Red knows how to sound fanfares. Here it burns quieter. Smolders. Presses from within — while turquoise lies in wait behind.

A different face. Plasma flows down the cheek — the fourth state of matter. And the first — a remedy.

In Egypt, hearts were weighed with a feather. The hand reaches out — to check its own. The glitch is not a failure. It is the system's honesty: the data are reliable.

Turquoise does not make it in time. The red is already here.