Bounce House

My friends, Helena Stone and Brigham Vaughn do a Flash Fiction post every Monday.  Last week, Helena and I were chatting and she chuckled and said Theo Fenraven had just sent her a picture for them to use. She showed it to me and I had to laugh. But then I started thinking...  And then I started writing... And then I showed it to them and they invited me to post mine along with their's. So, here is my take on Theo's picture.

BOUNCE HOUSE

“They’re making fun of me already.

I haven’t even been here for one full day yet.  That’s okay, though. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before. I move around a lot and I’m used to the other houses making fun of my bright red roof and porch with the funny blue stairs that can’t be climbed because there’s no railing. They call me four eyes and make fun of my kindergarten colors. Whatever. I know I’m not perfect like them. I don’t have well defined edges and a perfect roofline. I’m kind of round and puffy and my shingles need cut. I’m not strong like them either. When a heavy wind comes along, I’m the first to go down.

They even have sophisticated names like Tudor and Ranch. See the one next to me? That’s Colonial. But me? Even my name is ridiculous. Who names their kid Bounce, anyway? Yeah, that’s my name. Bounce House. Go ahead and laugh. I’ll wait.

Because you know what? Those houses next to me might look pretty on the outside, but there’s a lot of unhappiness behind their doors.  I hear the yelling and the screaming that goes on inside. They aren’t as perfect as they want everyone to believe. A new coat of paint and some flowers don’t make the family on the inside any happier. It doesn’t keep their kids from crying or being sad.

No, they can have their carefully coordinated color-pallet. I’ll keep my bright yellow walls and my too-red roof and the mouth that’s too big for my face because all those things make me… me…  and I make the people inside me and around me giggle and laugh. They love me because I’m colorful and fun and I make them smile every time they see me.  They bump up against me and I bump back. Sometimes I even knock them off their feet, but they don’t care – they love me anyway – even if I jiggle too much - because I make them happy. They love me for who I am and they don’t want me to change.

Hear those kids squealing right now? That’s because they just spotted me – me - not Colonial.  They’re running this way to play with me – not him or any of the ‘perfect’ houses.

But I can’t talk anymore because here they come! Gonna’ get pounced on in three… two… ‘UMPHPH’  Hahahahaha!”

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 Check out Helena Stone's story here and Brigham Vaughn's story here.

Thanks, girls, for letting me play with you! ;o)