Paintings of Scarlet is just a short story I wrote for my English Creative Writing class. Due at midnight, I very stupidly started writing this at about nine pm. I am not boasting or anything. Really. Had I more time to write it, it would have been infinitely better, and infinitely longer. I had much more planned for this story than what I could write. It is pretty naive and immature, and rather vague. You never get to see the action. You don't know anything about this man, Zhora, or his brother Aseem. How was Zhora so trained? Why did the Uncle want all these attacks? What was the purpose? How did he so easily manage to do it and get away with it? How old is he? How old is his brother?
Even I have the same question, and I would like to understand those and answer them, but three hours doesn't leave much space for details or backgrounds. I wish it did.
I know they are in Tajikistan, and should be speaking in Tajik. However, since Google was my only source, I had to make do with Persian. It's not even Persian. I have basically used Urdu and Hindi, and Arabic in some parts.
As for the title, I couldn't think of anything, but in the last line, he looks at his hands, and they're described as paintings of scarlet, and I thought that'd be rather apt, since what he is doing in this entire story is painting, paintings of scarlet. Scarlet, blood, murder, painting, get it?
But, in spite of all that, I hope my story isn't too bad :)
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