The Color of a Criminal

Sweat sopped from his pale skin, which shone like iridescent glass. He eased his disease-ridden body from his upholstered throne and raised a crooked, bony finger, pointing at the faint outline of a man across from him. "You are evil, yes. So... your skin must be dark!"

The man looked at the older gentleman, his eyes falling on the pen poised in the gentleman's hand, ink dripping onto the paper. He looked down as his bronze skin materialized. "Isn't that a poor description of a villain?" he asked.

"Don't tell me how to do my job!" the old man wretched, falling back into his chair as he scribbled away at his manuscript. "Everyone knows dark skin and eyes are evil!" Globs of sweat mixed with the ink, creating the author's story like witchcraft on the paper.