Yellow (Writing Prompt)

“No more yellow! No more yellow!”
I took out my earbuds. The drive to King Soopers was never anything to rave about. I peered out my window to see a group of protestors in the parking lot. Not again, what is it this time? “Yell-no!” “Amarill-no!” the activists shout. Why are they screaming about yellow? Finally, the leader of the group stood on a rock. “Yellow has tortured us long enough!” he exclaimed. The crowd roared in agreement. “Mustard, neon, you name it! We are done with this pain! Yellow must be eradicated!” the leader yelled. The crowd started to protest again. I mean, I get their point. Yellow is just not a pretty color. The only real purpose it had was to catch people’s attention; attention was drawn by its unnatural glow. As I walked into the grocery store, a woman approached me. “Do you know how many deaths are caused by the color yellow per year?” she questioned. “Umm, none?” I replied.
“Yes but there will be deaths if we don’t eradicate this color today.” she fired back.
“Well, good luck with your cause!” I said as I continued walking.
The next morning, on my way to school, I realized something was off. I quickly noticed that the school bus didn’t seem quite right…

Antigone vs. Ismene

In Sophocles’ play, Antigone and Ismene, the two main characters/sisters disagree on how they should handle their brothers’ deaths.  While Antigone says that they should honor them both, even if one of them died fighting against Thebes, Ismene suggests they play it safe and keep quiet. As I was reading, I could not identify all the way with either. Personally, I would say my personality is a balance of the two. Like Antigone, I would protect my family at all costs, even if it meant disobeying the law. If my family was being disrespected, I would stand up for them in any situation. However, when there is an opportunity to break the law, I am more like Ismene. I would rather play it safe and follow the law if I can.

If I were stuck in the sisters’ situation, I would probably agree with Antigone. From what I have read, Antigone seems more confident and outgoing, while Ismene seems more shy. Most of the people that know me would describe me more like Antigone. This moral dilemma is effective in the Greek tragedy because it causes deep thought for the audience and keep them captivated. I am ready to read the rest of the play and discover the deeper meanings behind all of the arguments!

Delivery of Daisies

The floral shop was raving. People were knocking over all of my hard work and demanding to see my manager. The rose petals were spread around the floor, the lilac leaves sweeping across the displays, and pollen was everywhere. The only flowers that were untouched were daisies. Children were playing with vases, trying to play baseball. Crash. Great, another mess that was my responsibility. Sigh, why do I even try? Beep, beep, beep. The fire alarm? Wonderful, just wonderful. Beep,  beep, beep. What am I going to do? I’ll be fired and this is the only job I have and I’ll starve and live in a box and die alone. Beep, beep, beep. I’ve accepted my fate, I’ll just close my eyes.

I woke up. This was one of many recurring nightmares I had, yet repetition didn’t make it any less stressful. I pulled my Royal Flowers uniform shirt over my brown mess of hair and pulled up my khakis. I swept my hair into a messy bun* and rushed out the door.

I drove to work, alone. Normally, I carpooled with my boyfriend, but he was busy today. Maybe he didn’t actually like me. Maybe I was just his pity date. “No,” I told myself. “Pity relationships don’t last for three years.” To everybody in the traffic around me, I probably looked insane talking to myself, but it was how I settled myself down.

I arrived at work. My manager was already there, setting up the shop. Overall, we had a great friendship. However, every time I had those dreams I just felt uncomfortable around her. She was in the middle of restocking the roses, so I joined her. Within an hour, all of the flowers had been restocked but daisies. The daisies never needed to be restocked. I never understood why the flowers were unpopular, but I guess it made my job easy. My boss looked up. “Today, we have a big delivery to make to the cathedral.”

“Can’t the delivery guy do it?” I questioned.

“He took a personal day, something about yoga.”

It seemed like it was going to be my problem to deal with. In general, deliveries were my least favorite because I’m unsocial. Deliveries require talking to people, and that means stress. “What kind of flower?” I asked.

“Three dozen daisies.”

Seeing my confusion, my boss continued, “I guess they’re not completely useless.”

I shrugged and went to pack the van. I hopped in the van and started to drive. “Just don’t be awkward and smile,” I told myself. Quickly, I arrived at the breath-taking glass cathedral. I had always dreamt of getting married there. I knocked on the door, “Delivery, three dozen daisies,” I yelled. The door opened. “They’re for you,” a voice replied. “What?” I responded. The man turned around, and I realized it was my boyfriend. Before I could recognize what was happening, he took my hand and brought me down the aisle. Once we reached the end, he turned around. “Will you marry me?” he whispered. I broke down into tears. “Yes!” I exclaimed.

*I don’t mean one of those cute messy buns, more like trash can with fly-aways on top of my head bun.