Obsessive Colour Disorder by Stephen James

May Prompt: An Unexpected Colour Palette

​When we moved in, the walls looked like puke. Brown and yellowish-green flakes of old paint hung off of cracked surfaces, making it look like the inside of the house was shedding its skin. No problem my mom said, nothing a little elbow grease can’t fix, right, honey? Dad, looking resigned, told Amy and me to run upstairs and find our new rooms. Amy darted like a jackrabbit, pulling me along. Can you believe we live in a place with stairs, she said. Seven-year-olds are so easy to impress.
 
I was two years older and infinitely more wise. The move from our apartment downtown to the fixer-

upper in the suburbs was mom’s idea. ​She always hoped for a house. I could decipher enough from my parents' arguments that money was an issue. This home was the best we could do.

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