See also
The gold was the shade of bleached buttercups.
By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, January 15, 2020.
The gold had become enmeshed in the guts of the guards following the explosion, garishly painted in faecal matter and sinew.
By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, January 15, 2020.
There it was, the gold, as cold and still as a corpse.
By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, January 15, 2020.
Next to a plant that stretched up to the sun was a lump of gold, pale in comparison to the beauty of a single petal.
By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, January 15, 2020.
Her voice was as cold as the gold she wore.
By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, January 15, 2020.