Story prompt: The Crayon Collector

A Story by Gradiation

A short story based on a prompt generated by thestorystarter.com

The attractive crayon collector fell asleep inside the taxi just for fun. Falling asleep in cars was a comforting habit of the man, enjoying the cool, dry air while the jostling of the vehicle rocks him to sleep. The sensation reminded him of his childhood, when his parents would take him out along for trips to their family resort off the coast of some beach he couldn't remember the name of. Funnily enough, he didn't have many memories of the beach, fixating more on the journey to and fro.

With a jolt, the man awoke upon reaching his destination. A small town in the tropics, barely noticeable on a map and definitely unmarked on most GPS applications. It was a wonder that the driver knew how to get here at all. Across the years, this town attempted time and again to modernize and reinvent itself. Gaudy wooden buildings shaped like cuckoo clocks placed right next to large glass-windowed condominiums were among the unusual sights here. Not all buildings were occupied or maintained either. Nothing of the infrastructure nor decorations seemed to follow any rhyme or reason. It was as if the town started building in one direction and immediately changed its mind not long after, resulting in an aimless mess of buildings and objects.

The man knew what he was to do here, and started towards the main shopping area, a strip mall in the center of town. He drew a few looks as he strut along the pavement. Of course he was good looking, anybody could see that, but there was something unusual about his demeanor. He was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and khakis, but walked stiffly as if he were marching in a regiment. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but his head slowly and consistently swept from side to side. He was clearly familiar with the path, but seemed to be thoroughly taking in the sights.

At last, he arrived at an unsuspecting cafe near the center of the strip. "Closed" was written in bright pink on the door, but the man entered anyway. As he closed the door behind him, the room grew dark, illuminated only by the light leaking in from the gaps in the boarded-up windows. "Just right," the man thought to himself. At this time when the sun begins to set, the light beaming in illuminates the abandoned eatery with flattering highlights, as if it were an intended experience. After turning on the radio, the man begins colouring.

Like a child, he colours in unfilled shapes. The light beaming in produces well defined shapes on its environment, laying yellow-white projections of light onto the walls, chairs and countertops of the cafe interior. The crayon in his hands is of an unusual colour, shimmering in blacks and pinks as if the way light bounces off it is fundamentally different. It is an arduous task, but he soldiers on indefatigably. He will do this, no question about it.

The coloured shapes are incoherent at first. As he colours more, an idea begins to form, but this work of art only makes sense when viewed from a specific corner in this abode. However, he does not need to properly witness his creation to know he is done. It happens seamlessly, as he finishes the final stroke. From the radio, an advertisement plays. It appears that this time, banana leaf curtains are in vogue.

"Harness the energy of the sun, save the planet and represent for our fellows in the tropics". The idea kind of made sense, leaf-to-microUSB converters have long been invented after-all. It was abit silly still, but at least amusing enough for our crayon man. A rather futile exercise in the end, his efforts today may save a few watts of electricity per household, but the machines used to pick and package the banana leaves will make up the difference. In the end, a passing trend that will never benefit the world, but will make houses look a little more amusing for this brief period of time, like most inventions throughout history. Satisfied, the man pockets his crayon and exits the premises. He will not remember today's result, but he will remember his fondness for what he has and will continue to do. If nothing else, the promotion for banana leaves on this month's home decor magazines will serve as a fine memorial, right next to the article on how we should bring back cuckoo clock bungalows.