Colored Bricks

Andrew groggily rolled out of bed and went right for the New York Times on his front porch. He knew the daily delivery was a frivolous expense, but one it seemed impossible to live without. The whoosh of the cool morning spontaneously overcame his senses as the wooden front door was popped open. As he reached down to snatch the paper, he noticed some color on the side of his house. Oh my god jumped out of his mouth. His anger was enraged, feeling like a volcano’s lava was quickly pushing its way up a narrowed passageway to his brain. He stepped back inside to the warmer air and familiar smell of his home. The headline for tomorrow’s paper went strolling through his brain, “Family Colors Each Brick of Their House with Colorful Chalk.”

It had been a long day for Andrew at the office. He was working 70 plus hours a week as the Operations Manager at the Charmin toilet paper factory outside of Green Bay, Wisconsin. The country continued to gobble up every roll of toilet paper that his workers were producing.

Andrew continued to deal with a lot of anger within his life. He had gone to anger management classes and even had spent some time with a counselor trying to root out the emotional issues that would cause him to explode at a second’s notice. This had become a delicate subject with his wife Kathy and their three children.

A thought quickly popped into Andrew’s brain. Why don’t you (asking himself questions was a method he learned at Mrs. Allen’s anger class) take a moment and take a closer look at what your family has done. He decided to put on his boots, coat, and go outside to take a closer look.

As he looked, his eyes started to water. They hadn’t just colored, but had also written words of encouragement, and also publicly stated their love and appreciation for their daddy. He was deeply moved by this and also how they were encouraging their community to come together during this time of craziness in the world.

Andrew took a moment to compare what would happen if he continued down a natural anger path that ended in rage and his family in pain and in tears. Or, if he took a different path and acknowledged their work and loved them with appreciation.

His feet seemed to understand before his heart did as they were moving towards the kitchen. He was whipping up pancakes before he knew it. And he was grabbing his camera to take a picture to email to the community paper as he wanted everyone in their community to be encouraged by the colorful work his family had done.

Rick Ellsmore

4.15.20

PS. This is a story written in 30 minutes. The subject, and six specific words, were a prompt from my amazing writing group. It is a fiction story, based on a headline this past week! It was taken from here: https://www.wftv.com/news/trending/family-colors-every-brick-townhouse-brighten-neighborhood-during-coronavirus-pandemic/OB5SA5QL2VFPPDJTBGL42O43OA/

Similar Posts

  • Ink

    Ink Meaning more Then just adding An “S” Onto my I-N-K S-K-I-N Forever resting Inviting spirit higher Your presence Your kiss Your love A permanent sharpie Imprinted on My flesh Forever seeping Deeply into My lonely heart Successively seeping Into a cavernous well Offering fresh water Nourishing Deadened roots Back to life Blossoming an Aborted…

  • A Sunflower She Is

    A Sunflower she is Blown in the wind Born into unforgiving soil Forced to grow With little water Surviving on The extremes  Overexposure to The sun and moon Underexposed of their light Somehow, she grew Strengthening with each breath Moving forward While protecting A fragile heart Kindness being her Guiding light The North Star Within…

  • My Gift

    Part I: I am learning My instincts Are valid Almost always Right My “gut” Speaking Internally Audibly I’m listening In a way Like never Before An earthly Almost animalistic Movement Meaning Flowing through me A voice Quieted Far too long Bringing joy Living in this Moment Learning I am courageous Tenacious Enough to Follow my…

  • Why So Sad?

    Why So Sad? Awakening to A wall of grief Slipping into bed Hugging me Like a lover Tightly spooning Sadness A state of being Once controlling A massive part Of my Daily energy Diligently working Not wanting It’s depressing clutches On me again Suffering through A tremendous loss A ripping heart Yearning to Feel the…

Leave a Reply