She handed out paint sample cards - you know the kind, with the different shades of the same color that are supposed to help you choose how you'd like to paint your walls, but really leaving you tearing your hair out and buying a snickers on the way out, instead of paint? But I digress.
Next time you happen by a wall of paint samples, pick up a few. Rather than simply naming them Grey 1, Grey 2, ... Grey 156497, etc, they feel the need to grant them all elaborate names. This is where it gets fun. We get things like "Gargoyle Shadow", "Aubusson Vine", and "Weathered Wicker". The description is sometimes questionable, given the color sample, but how can you not be inspired by something like Gargoyle Shadow?
So today, I present your prompt in the form of a paint sample:
(In case you're wondering, these are Dutch Boy paints. I did not get free paint, just the same free sample paper anyone can pick up from a store.)
The prompt is to use these words as inspiration for a short piece. The challenge is to incorporate all 4 descriptions in your response.
Enjoy!
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My response:
The Nantucket mist clung to my jacket, swirling around me as if it had a life of its own. I broke out in a sweat, despite the chill of the night, and I felt a bead of moisture work its way down my back. I tucked my jean jacket closer around my shoulders and tucked my chin into my flamingo feather scarf.
I'd been thrilled when Sean pulled me aside after the game and asked me to meet him up by the old, abandoned light house after the party, but standing out in the dark, I didn't feel so special anymore. The lighthouse loomed ahead. I didn't know which side he intended, so I walked carefully around it, dodging shadows. The moon shone dimly through the clouds, and with the mist, everything - trees, bushes, buildings, even the old water wheel down on the creek - looked like it had been twisted out of sheet metal, grey and gleaming with moisture.
I pulled my phone from my pocket. Nearly 2am and if Mom woke up before I got home, I'd be grounded next weekend. It just might be worth it, depending on if Sean showed tonight. He'd only had one beer, so while the rest of the team was wasted, I knew he'd still be able to negotiate his way up the curving, cliff-side road to the lighthouse.
I'd left the moon on the other side of the light house, so the first thing I saw was the shadow. My first thought was that I'd had too much to drink, and my wits had taken their leave. I blinked, hoping the image would disappear, but no such luck. I didn't even have breath to scream. Creeping across the ground towards me was a long gargoyle shadow - pointed wings stretched out on either side and a great, horned head in between.
The shadow brushed my toes, and I staggered away from the building.
There stood Sean, pulling his letterman jacket on. The collar stuck out, and he tucked it down, the sides of the jacket settling to his body.
"Ashley?"
"Sean? Oh my ... " I laughed. "I thought ... well, I ..."
He looked confused, and self-consciousness immediately squelched my giggles.
"Sorry, just your shadow surprised me."
He cocked his head at me, his face blank of expression, a perfect impression of Stonewall Jackson.
Did he not understand? Maybe the rumors were right. Maybe he really was as dumb as dirt.
"Nevermind."
"Okay."
I waited, not wanting to jump ahead of myself again and stick my foot in my mouth. He stared at me. I shifted from foot to foot and looked out over the ocean. He pressed his lips together.
Yep. I'm grounded next weekend for no good reason.
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