
Basics wrote:
Name;; Riley
Nickname;; Ri
Gender;; Male
Orientation;; Bisexual
Birthday;; July 13th
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Riley’s favorite place in the world is a paint-splattered brick masterpiece. He calls it the wall. This is because it is, as a matter of fact, a brick wall.
His first encounter with it was years ago, when he was walking home from an art supply store. He had just received a canvas for his birthday and could not wait to fill it up with the newly bought paint. As he looked on the horizon, Riley could see the sun slowly setting. If he got home when it was dark out, his parents were sure to be upset. He started into a jog, and decided to try a shortcut, through the abandoned factory grounds. It belonged to no one, just kind of sat there like an eerie grey landmark. He ran through it, not even noticing it when his bag ripped on a fence and the new paints and brushes came spilling out. Riley got home on time, but the relief was short-lived when he saw that his new supplies were all gone. He concluded that they must have fallen out when he had run through the factory. But it was dark out, and he couldn’t go back to get them.
The following morning, Riley hopped out of bed and ran to the factory yard again to get his paints. He retraced his steps until he saw them, lying on the ground, untouched. As he stepped forward to retrieve them, he couldn’t help but notice what lay in front of him. Others would see a crumbling brick wall, but Riley saw more than that. He saw a blank canvas. He cocked his head and squinted his eyes, envisioning an art piece painted on that very wall. Then he picked up his paintbrushes and got to work.
He really didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but it felt right. A stroke there, toss some paint over there. Orange, yellow, green, blue, white. A dash of black here and there. The time passed in a blink of an eye, and when he looked up at the sun, it was already setting. He stepped back to look at his art, which was barely started. “I’ll be back,” he whispered to the wall, gathering up his supplies and walking home again. When he got home, his family asked him where he had been, but he just responded with a knowing smile and the vague response of “around,” They asked him again and again, but thought that if he told them about it, the wall would lose its magic.
And sure enough, he kept coming back to that wall, day after day. He looks at it after every painting session and admires his work, but always knows that it is not done. Some days, he won’t paint. He will just sit in its shade and relax. The wall holds a special place in his heart, and that it why it is his favorite place in the whole world.
Word count; 494 words

