General Fiction posted September 8, 2015

Not yet exceptional. When the exceptional rating is reached this is highlighted
Grown ups never uderstand life

Magic Orange Line

by apelle

Why didn't anybody stop me? Stop me not years ago when I was a child and everything was possible but now, when magic became such an elusive concept. I've been searching for the rabbit hole ever since I was five and it disappears out of my peripheral vision every time I think I got it.

Back when I was a child and drew a line, straight, clear and brightly orange, I saw it come alive. It moved its puny body, and with a push--freed itself from the prison of white paper.

I remember laughing hysterically at the sight of the little orange line being confused and silly.
When the line laid back on the sheet of paper, I, with a blue pencil, drew a dot on one end.

Happy now, the orange line, decorated with a blue dot, jumped confident of her looks.

"How beautiful is my head? I'm beautiful. Beautiful! Where's a mirror? I want to see myself in the mirror."
"Here it is."
I said as I produced a hand mirror from a drawer.
The line was beautiful.

"Yes. I am a very attractive line. But...I need a red ribbon to make me look finished. What do you say? So I could look more amazing, could you add a red silk bow around my skinny neck? Maybe with little green polka dots, that would be great. Faster, faster...give me my ribbon," said the impatient and disobedient line.

I picked up a red pencil and drew an elaborate bow. Then, with a green crayon, I added green splats. I laughed at how silly and alive the little orange line with a red bow and green spots looked. My orange line could not stop admiring its beauty--as if no other line as lovely existed. It turned and twisted in the little round mirror, bending and adjusting its neck ribbon, shaking its fragile little body in frenzy

The other day I remembered the life of the little line and missed its high-pitched voice. I found an orange crayon and a white sheet of paper. After staring at the blank sheet for a moment, I drew a remained lifeless on the white paper.

I tried another. And again, another.

I filled dozens of sheets with lines of many colors.

Each line was quiet and well behaved. The naughty little line could not be resurrected.

If somebody stopped me in time the other day, took my crayon and paper away, the magic orange line would still be alive.

If only in my memory.

Why didn't someone stop me? writing prompt entry
Writing Prompt
Write a flash fiction story beginning with the words "Why didn't someone stop me?" Beyond the opening lines there are no rules. Maximum word count is 500 words.

Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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