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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2229490-Living-in-a-Dream
Rated: E · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2229490
time to live her dream
Terese loved the discount paint cart at Ace Hardware. You could find odds and ends of colors marked down because of someone's mistake.
She was looking for something to paint the boring white door to her new, tiny mobile home. And there it was a small can of glossy latex labeled,
JUICY RED. Perfection.

She knew that a red front door was a sign of welcome, and according to her Italian grandmother a sign of protection. It was also used to signify a house that was mortgage free. She was mortgage free, job free, husband free and ready to live her dream. The too big house was sold and her possessions stripped down to the minimum.

Terese mused, "Without the fear of coordinates, falling might indeed be flying."

Today August 15 was the Feast of the Assumption, or Dormition to the Eastern Orthodox. It was the feast day of Mother Mary's ascension, body and soul, into heaven. And so the old Church Fathers honored this woman, an unwed mother, a brown, Jewish, working class refugee
as Queen of Heaven. It seemed fitting to Terese to paint her front door red on this day--a day of beginnings and freedom.

Before beginning to paint she placed the plaster statue of St. Mary to the side of the house. Her Mary with a broken crown and a pierced heart.

When the door was finished, Terese placed a wet paint sign at the side. She walked down to the community sign board and tacked up her sign
announcing, "House of the Red Door--energy healing by donation". She posted her phone number and figured anyone would recognize the house.

Back home she smudged her new, spare space with sweetgrass. She started a pot of soup and put her no knead bread in the oven.

She looked over again the homeowner's association rules and couldn't find a by-law concerning door colors.

As the bread was coming out of the oven, crusty and fragrant, she heard a rap on her front window. Peeking out she saw Henry, president of the Homeowner's Association. She cracked the window, "You can't paint your door red," he said.

She told him to come around to the back door hoping he would see the sign that read HIPPIES ENTER BY BACK DOOR.

She invited him in and said a quick silent Hail Mary.

"It smells great in here," he muttered, "but you still can't have a red door."

"Come in, she said, "we'll talk.. I think we can work something out. I'm just living my dream."
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