Photo prompt courtesy of CEAyr
The early blossoms were perfect. At first no-one noticed. Helen called a cheery hello as she passed, and George from next door waved good morning as he watered his yellow roses.
Soon the bushes were a riot of purple, and Penelope’s neighbours stared, from a distance. George stayed indoors.
Penelope completed her project. This was who she was – a woman with purple flowers and a matching purple door.
The end was swift. Penelope’s padlocked purple door remained a warning to passers-by that the Ministry of Civic Harmony would not tolerate subversive colour schemes. This was a yellow street. Just yellow.
*****
Once again I’m dragging the chain this week, but hopefully someone will still be browsing through the Friday Fictioneers link-up and drop by to read my story. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting this weekly flash fiction event.
Onto the page 
Great story! This happens to a small extent in some neighbourhoods (like when someone decides to paint their house neon orange for example!). Who knows if it could go to these lengths in the future?
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Neon orange sounds scary. Let’s hope mutual consideration and tolerance hold sway over such dilemmas in the future, rather than a scenario like the one in the story. Thanks for your input, Ali. Glad you enjoyed the story.
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A fun metaphor for a serious problem, Margaret
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Yes – it’s not the doors and flowers we have to be concerned about. Thanks, Neil.
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Reminds me of those ‘gated’ communities (I think Disney built one) where everything has to be just so and if you don’t abide by the written and unwritten rules, censure will swiftly follow. Great tale Margaret
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Your comment just made me remember the song ‘Little Boxes’ sung by Pete Seeger long ago. I should link it to my post. I’m glad you liked my story, Lynn. Thank you.
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Oh, I know that song – ‘all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same’. And my pleasure Margaret 🙂
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Dear Margaret,
It sounds like our neighborhood with its muted tones of golds and greens. One neighbor dared to paint his house blue. You can imagine the outrage. 😉 (Not really, but it did kind of tick off one of our neighbors and there are neighborhoods like that.) Good story. Better late than never.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thank you, Rochelle. Last Sunday I had a conversation with an acquaintance who showed me photos of her beautiful front garden – all purple flowers. She’s painted sections of her brickwork to match. Of course, I followed the idea trail pretty quickly after coming up blank for days, and voila! – my story.
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I enjoyed this subtle story of conformity.
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Glad you liked it, Dawn. I wanted to say so much more about what Penelope’s little protest meant to her and how long she’d been aching to do it.
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I hope that the ministry of magic turns everything purple on behalf of Penelope
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What a wonderful sequel that would be. Thanks, Michael.
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My own life has been full of purple this week – wonderful story about a wonderful colour!
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It sounds like you’ve had a good week then, Liz. It is a wonderful colour – and I’m glad you enjoyed my story. Thank you.
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Lovely take, if a bit scary. Don’t like the sound of the Ministry of Civic Harmony – sounds like something Orwellian and Monty Python-esque mixed together!
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That’s good.I’m happy about that comparison.Thank you, Iain.
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Oh, I love this story. It’s so original. It reminds of friend who painted who door red and didn’t get permission first. Her neighbors were not happy with her. I really like the “riot of purple.” Great one, Margaret.
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Some neighbours can be hard to please. I hope your friend got to keep her red door. Thank you for your lovely comment, Amy. I’m so glad you enjoyed the story.
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That Penelope is quite a rebel. I like that in a woman.
We have some covenant communities nearby. I hate the thought of someone being able to dictate what I can and can’t do in my own yard. Wouldn’t work for me.
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She’s got gumption. It’s interesting how some people are willing to surrender such control over their lives to someone else. And when so many people around the world have their independence forcibly taken, I must admit I’m baffled. Of course, there’s a fair amount of coercion or manipulation going on behind the scenes in some of these communities, I’m sure. Nice to hear from you, and sorry to take so long to reply.
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Wow, that neighborhood committee is more than a little too strict. Polka dots I could understand but simply purple? Let’s hope that never takes place. Good writing, Margaret. 🙂 — Suzanne
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I guess polka dots would be pushing the limits of neighbourly tolerance, although it might depend on the dots, and on the neighbourhood. Glad you enjoyed the story, Suzanne. Sorry to be so long in replying.
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There is a sense of forced compliance here… reminds me of Axel Sandemose and the Law of Jante… very well known were I live…
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Law_of_Jante
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Yes – forced compliance exactly. What a fascinating Wikipedia article – thank you for linking it, Bjorn. The ‘ten laws’ sound like admirable qualities when a person chooses to live by them, but if they’re forcibly imposed it would make for a miserable community, I think.
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It is a fine line between common sense and a force of law…hard to find a balance in todays world. Excellent story!
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Glad you enjoyed it, and thanks for your lovely comment. Balance is indeed the key word here. Very hard to find. Sorry to take so long to reply.
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Conformity, don’t stick out, don’t get airs, don’t think you are better than us… Nice if you want to fit in, horrible if you have your own ideas. Let’s hope there’s room for Penelopes. Someone in our street (suburban village) painted their house bright yellow. People wagged their tongues, but now some are getting brave. We have kind of a colour revolution, people paint deep red, blue, orange, purple… and the more traditional baroque pastels. Out with the grey I say. Great story, Margaret.
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Your street must be a delight. I must say I like a bit of variety and colour too. I’ve taken so long to reply to your lovely comment, Gabi. Sorry about that – and thank you.
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Not really, there are a lot of people who like to complain about everything, but over time they get used to it. Don’t worry about being late, I was so horribly late last week that only now I replied.
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