A blue house sat facing a vast expanse of green grass, brown weeds, and flowers that dotted the ground like pastel. It overlooked a city, running through an endless cycle of movement and life. Lights shone brightly through the night illuminating the buildings and mirroring the stars above. The hue of yellow in each building told the story of long worked hours, busy schedules and suicidal agendas. Buildings rose to clouds like titans, glaring down at the people below with their conceited stance. Glass reflects the life of the city, trapping it in a constant day. People roam the sidewalks, clustered together like ants but never touching. Their clothes the painted grey of their lives. A dark constant gloom hangs over the city, a man-made fog that kills the weak and benefits the few.
Inside the blue house-sat John Fisher. He sat on a stool looking out at the city. In his hand was his most prized possession, it was a wand that allowed him to freeze time in one still image. He would meticulously depict the life of the city and preserve it for all to see. With the stroke of his hand, he would lay out the beating heart of the city using the colors of his mind. Time would not pass while he worked his magic. Only the scenery changed as the soft purple's turned to blue then every shade of orange. When he finally sets down his wand, he would stare into the life he had created. Searching for its meaning; finding none.
John stood up from his stool, stretched, and took the painting to lay it with the others. Dozens of canvases leaned against every wall of the room. Each filled with their own emotion, some with pinks, reds, and purples. Others with greens, yellows, and blues. John
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glanced over each of them dispassionately. 'Worthless,' he thought to himself. He picked up his phone and sent a message to his broker, letting him know that the painting was done. John sighed, pocketed his phone and left his study.
He walked down the hall to the kitchen. Each wall of the house was painstakingly painted with every color imaginable. He reminisced on the all of the days it took to paint the whole thing. Buckets of paint had laid throughout the house as he isolated himself for weeks to complete the project. The whole house smelled like fresh paint and construction during the entire time. During the whole process he stayed at a hotel to allow himself respite from the fumes. When a couple of his friends found out about his project they offered to help, some even going so far as offering him a place to stay but he denied them, determined to do the whole thing himself.
John reached into the fridge and pulled out a sandwich he had made a couple days before. As he sat down his phone buzzed. He pulled it out and checked the message. "Hey man, I'm heading out to town tonight hmu if you want to come R.N"
The message was from Ryan Newcaster. John had met him in college and the two had maintained a friendly relationship after they graduated. Ryan inherited a tech company from his father and had far too much free time on his hands. Still, Ryan was good company and with his newest painting finished there was nothing stopping him from accepting his invitation. "Do I really have to go?" John said to himself. He would have much prefered to go see a movie, or better yet, stay home and watch TV.
John made his way to the living room. The floor was an expensive white carpet with intricate black swirls. The walls were painted shades of white and grey in geometric shapes. Two
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armchairs sat either side of a large white couch, each made from high-quality black leather. In front of the couch was a long glass table with a dark steel finish. In the far corners of the room were a pair of ferns in short white vases. Mounted on the wall was a large tv. The rooms roof was slanted. It raised towards the back giving off the feel of viewing a gallery. Indented into the ceiling was a high hanging modern chandelier designed to drop down lower as the ceiling rose higher so that it maintained the same distance from the floor.
