The Yellow Walls

I wanted more sunshine in my life, so I painted my house yellow. I planted rows of sunflowers and batches of yellow zucchini in my garden. I lay down a yellow brick path that led to my bronze plated doorknob. My house was so yellow that you couldn't help but smile when you opened the door. I was spinning in my yellow sundress and twirling with my gold earrings. I ate bananas and popcorn and pineapple and peaches. I had stacks of yellow post-its where I wrote lists of yellow things with my lemon-scented crayons. And then one day, I received a blue package in the mail. I was startled. I opened up the blue box, and a blue butterfly flew out into my yellow palace. I chased the butterfly trying to catch it in my hands. I ran in circles, climbed up trees, stood on tables, and crawled on my knees. I tried so hard to remove the fluttering misfit from my life. Each time I got close, the butterfly would skim gracefully through my fingers. I unwillingly let the outlier stay. He danced and fluttered and brought me a yellow rose. I slowly grew to love this soft blue spot of compassion against my perfect yellow walls.