Partly Cloudy

Lightning.

Here's the thing about being dumb: Nobody wants to be dumb. Some people try to, but nobody ever wants to be dumb. But me, I am dumb. I am absent minded. I am un-filtered.
I am dumb. I am dumb. I am dumb. And that's okay with me.
☂
As soon as I reached the steps bellow the friendly colored house, I felt as though all the knowledge had been immediately sucked out of me. All I could remember was this very spot I was standing on, and that felt somewhat comfortable.
All I could think about was this tiny yellow house.
It was odd, a brightly colored home looked so stranded when it was surrounded by an array of monochromatic gray and blues, as if the yellow house was the only happy home.
Along the entrance of the building lay these joyful little flowers that danced along the unbalanced stone path.
An abundance of deep green vines grew from the bottom of the home; probably the only thing keeping the place altogether. It had a flower like ambiance, not too much, but just enough to keep you feeling sort-of safe.
"Shoot." I stared up at the sky, suddenly feeling a drop of rain (or sweat) gently slide down my forehead.
I knew that if I didn't get inside now I'd be soaked (and not just because of the rain), but never had I ever felt so peaceful by just looking at a measly house. It brought tranquil; something that most orphanages lacked.
"It's going to rain for Christ sake Elliot. Get in!" I yelled at myself.
I then stopped examining the house and came to realize that the house will probably be the most happiest thing I come in contact with today. Then I thought; the house is not moving therefore, my happiness will not move.

While adjusting the chaffing collar of my blue plaided shirt, I dropped my suitcase down, and used my free hand to shakily knock on the big red wooden door.
I pressed the doorbell again and again with shaky hands and I stood, waiting for what seemed to be at least an hour. I wasn't at the right address.
Or was I?
No, you probably got on the wrong flight. Silly Elliot.
Yes, Elliot this is it! You can't always be wrong, right?
No. I can be wrong. I can always be wrong.
Yes, I am at the right house.
NOYOU'RENOT!
YESYOUARE!
My mind began rushing though different conspiracies, playing them over and over in my head.
Ironically enough, thinking became way too much and I tried my best to clear my mind.
I turned away from the door, looked around and stood. I expected to see someone laughing at me, calling me dumb, or stupid, or retard.

So I sat down. I tried my best to get those words out of my heads. I did.
I decided to begin examining the street, creating a mental picture in my head.
My eyes took in the blue and gray hues focusing on the smallest and unappreciated of things:
I noticed the stone paths that lead to each other, each of them built in disproportion. They lead up to the street, and connected the town of homes like little ropes.
I realized:
I liked the fact that there were no real roads, I liked the fact that they were just dirt paths, and stone clearings. I noticed the only things that stood out between homes, was that everybody had a different style of mailbox, and I loved that. I-
"Elliot?" I jumped from my stance in shock, and turned swiftly, facing the entrance. I met a pair of pale blue eyes slightly hidden behind a harsh pair of thick red frames. A frail woman-about half my size, with milk white skin smiled brightly at me. She held a bouquet of wimpish daisies in her quivering hands, and bangles were shaking along the sides of her arm. Her body was covered with oversized denim overalls. The legs of which were rolled up to fit her better. The stitching on her breast pocket read 'Jason,' in giant cursive like yellow letters. Underneath she had a skintight white long sleeve hugging her frame.

"Uh yes, I-I'm Elliot. And Y-you scared me a little honestly Ma'am." I smiled the same contagious grin back at her.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," She jumped up, and engulfed me in a hug. It took me a while to register what was going on, but eventually I shyly wrapped my hands around her petite waist.
"Oh Golly! I'm so sorry, My name is Emily Rose," She pulled back, "But you can call me Emily, or Rose, or Mom, I don't um." She stumbled on her words. "Geez, Sorry come in." Her arms pulled me into her cozy little home.
Oh she was a grabber.
These kinds of people made you feel like nothing in the world mattered but you. I loved those people. I swear I did.