Mrs. Lee from across the street chuckled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. « Honey, a bright house and a happy heart, that’s the motto around here, not whatever shade of bland they’re peddling. »
« Yeah, well, maybe this will finally shut them up! » I sighed. Little did I know, that was just the opening act in the grand opera of their disapproval.
Buckle up, because things were about to get much, much worse.
An extremely upset mature woman | Source: Pexels
I had to go out of town for two weeks regarding work.
Two stinkin’ weeks cooped up in that stuffy city. Finally, the road stretched out in front of me, leading me back to my haven. My yellow house, bright as a sunflower against the boring beige of the neighborhood, should’ve been the first thing I saw.
Instead, a giant, GRAY block loomed from the curb. I almost drove right past it. My house, the one my late husband had painted a cheerful yellow, now stood painted a color fit for a forgotten grave!
A gray house | Source: Midjourney
I slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching a protest. Gray?
My stomach dropped. I was furious and instantly knew who was responsible for this makeover I didn’t ask for. Did those pale-faced neighbors think they could erase my spirit with a bucket of paint? Not a chance. My blood ran hot.
