The Day the Crayons Quit

In a quaint little town where time seemed to slow and imagination flew high, young Duncan’s bedroom was a colorful wonderland. Gigantic towers made of building blocks stood guard over soft piles of stuffed animals, and the walls showcased his drawings of dragons, rocket ships, and enchanted castles. Among this artistic chaos lay a sturdy wooden desk, which held the beloved box of crayons that Duncan used every day. One cozy and slightly eerie afternoon, just as the sun began dipping behind the horizon, creating long shadows in Duncan’s room, an unusual note on his desk caught his eye. Fid, his trusty teddy bear, sat beside him, its button eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Look at this, Fid,” Duncan said, picking up the note. “It’s from the crayons!” The note read: “Dear Duncan, We need to talk. We crayons have some things to say. Sincerely, Your Crayons.” With a puzzled look, Duncan opened his crayon box. The crayons were oddly silent, each one shimmering in the dim light, ready to share their stories. First was Red Crayon. “Duncan,” Red said with a very serious tone, “I am so tired! You use me every day. Fire engines, apples, Santa Claus—I need a break!” Next up was Purple Crayon. “I'm an artist’s crayon, Duncan,” Purple huffed. “But you never color inside the lines! I dream of straight, clean edges.” Then came Beige Crayon. “I'm overlooked,” Beige sighed. “You use me for wheat and the occasional bear, but really, I want to do more!” One by one, they spoke their dreams and grievances. Gray Crayon was exhausted from all the elephants and whales, while White Crayon felt invisible on white paper. Green Crayon seemed happy but worried about his friends, Orange and Yellow, who were fighting over who should be the color of the sun. Each crayon had its turn to express their feelings of neglect, overwork, or aspirations of being noticed. Duncan listened intently to each one, his heart filled with empathy and determination. “Alright, Fid,” Duncan said after the last crayon had spoken. “It’s time to make things right.” The next morning, Duncan was up bright and early. He pulled out his fresh notebook and with a newfound sense of creativity, began to color differently. He used Red Crayon only for big special things, giving it time to rest. Purple Crayon helped him draw neat lines around mystical creatures. Beige Crayon got to create a magnificent desert with vast sand dunes, and White Crayon became the clouds in the sky. For Gray Crayon, Duncan sketched a sleek dolphin, and Orange and Yellow Crayon both took turns creating a beautiful sunrise where they shared the spotlight. The energy in the room was magical. His drawings seemed to breathe life, the colors more vibrant than ever before. Fid watched and nodded approvingly at each stroke. By the end of the day, each crayon had a smile on its wrapper. The once slightly eerie room now glowed with happiness and bright colors. “Thank you, Duncan,” the crayons whispered as he placed them back into their box. They glimmered softly in the warm light of the setting sun. And from that day on, Duncan and his crayons worked together in perfect harmony, bringing his drawings to life in ways he never imagined, always ready for the next colorful adventure.