Here’s the contest prompt for this week – now that NaNoWriMo is over… (click the title to head to Wendy’s site)
Now that NaNoWriMo is over, how about we take a refreshing break from the stories we’ve been working so hard on. Once you’ve written the draft, it’s always a good idea to let it rest a bit before going back to edit/revise. For this week, let’s take a prompt suggested by Christy Lynn Foster: Describe a day as your favorite color.
So, I got a little whimsical here….enjoy
“That’s right, buddy!” I shouted. “I am smiling at you. You have a great one.” He walked on, without responding other than to keep on singing. I just kept smiling at him, and anyone else who walked by. Some looked up at me, as if they could feel my smile or hear my greetings. They couldn’t, I knew that. Still, I kept smiling – even if they didn’t know the song.
Whitey came along trying to cast a shadow by getting between me and the people. I got a bit perturbed, of course, and started to say something, but he cut me off. “Sky,” he said, “Ain’t nobody down there that can hear you or feel your smile. Get a grip on reality.”
I just kept smiling. Why, when I’m in full force, most people have great days. People go on picnics and look up at me lazily saying things like, “Isn’t this a great day?” When I’m on a roll, kids ride bikes, run, and swim. I am the Sky that everyone wants to see.
Whitey looked like he was getting a bit upset and was turning a bit gray. I decided to kid him a little. “What’s up old man? You’re beginning to cloud up a bit. We gonna have some tears now?” I forgot he didn’t like being called an old man.
He lashed out, trying to hurt me. “You ain’t even blue, you know that, Sky? Your nice white light family gets scattered and you look blue because you have the shortest wave length!”
I started laughing. If I had a dime for every time they told me that, I would be rich! Whitey clouded up some more, blocking me from seeing the people down below. Sparks flew from his eyes and every time they flew out, I laughed so hard that I shook.
“You laugh at me,” he roared, “but some people like me! People like farmers like me,” he spat through his teeth. Whitey got darker and darker as he got madder and madder.
“Hey!” I yelled. “Calm down! You’re going to …” I looked down and saw that it had happened. Whitey blocked me from seeing most of the ground, but what I saw didn’t look too good. People were putting newspapers over their head and running; running for any kind of shelter. They had embraced me. They knew that I smiled at them. Whitey, cried out of anger and frustration and they didn’t like his tears so they ran to shelter so that they could hide from them.
Whitey laughed at that thought. He was happy that now it wasn’t all about me and my smiles. Now, his gray sky would rule all that they could see and no one would see me. I looked at Whitey and shook my head. “You shouldn’t have done that, Whitey,” I said. “Those people were happy and enjoying me. Now, you’ve cried all over them.” I shook my finger at him. “You have given these people the blues.”
with homage to Irving Berlin at the beginning….