Writing From Prompts: Color (Orig Pub 7/10/2015)

The canary yellow scarf wrapped around the front gate seemed excessively perky. Joel scowled at it. “Don’t give me that,” he told the fluttering silk sharply. It didn’t seem to make a difference.

Joel limped up the front step. Cane down, twist hip, lift foot, stand, cane up. He made slow progress to the front door. Some wise-acre had put in a ramp that ran up the side of the house to the back door. Cane down, twist hip, lift foot, careful of the bottom of the ramp, stand, cane up. He ascended the Trex ramp past the profusion of red and purple flowers in the planters on the left side. He gripped the silver hand-rail until his fingers turned white as a wave of pain shot up his back.

After what felt like an hour, he’d made it to the back door. The six little panes of glass were decorated with little US flags and stars. Left of the door hung a mother’s flag with one gold star and two blue stars. Joel’s heart clenched a little. He touched the gold flag. “I’m gonna miss you, little sister,” he murmured.

He knocked on the back door. Time was he would have assumed that it was open, but life was very different from when he’d been a kid. The door opened slowly. The woman behind it froze. “Joel?” she whispered.

He nodded. “Hello, Mama.”

Suddenly, she was hugging him tightly. Maybe that silly yellow scarf was right. Maybe it was a good day.

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