Once upon a time in a land far, far away lived a race of red haired people known as Eisenfelders, miners, with complexions that glowed in the sunlight. They worked the iron fields. The citizens all had red hair and skin, some more freckled than others.
In those days, the ore was bountiful and everything rusted. The rivers themselves would rust, assuming the dull titian hue of oxidized iron; but as the iron was mined out, and the fields diminished, the rivers changed. They began to run clear again. Fish and animals returned to the land.
When the iron ran out, people changed. Pigmentations varied as the blush they had carried for generations washed off and faded. Hair colors morphed from red to blonde, brunette, even gray.
Today we all live together with few ginger-haired people remaining. They remind us of the oxide that once permeated the land, but we are all descendants of those miners. We are one people.
Nicely done! I enjoyed your bit of flash! Thanks for participating again TNK! See you next week? 🙂 Be well… ^..^
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I liked this a lot! Very imginative – I would not have thought of it.
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Gracias
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That was great! I loved it! Very creative. 😀 😀
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An imaginative and vividly described story you have written here.
I often wondered why one does not see many natural ginger haired people nowadays.
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Not enough rust, I suppose. I’m glad you liked it!
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Wow, loved it! You described it very well.
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Nice story! I’ve seen a couple of stories which could go into an anthology entitled “Origins” 🙂 Very imaginative.
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Good story. 🙂 Very imaginative.
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That’s a new spin on a couple of old themes. NICE!
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We are still the one.. Nice one.. 🙂
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Ah yes. I wondered why there were fewer red heads. Creative use of the prompt and well done. 🙂 — Suzanne
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