Paris Street

There's a little house on Paris Street the color of newly blossomed daffodils. The grass is always just the slightest bit too tall, but not so that you begin to wonder what sort of barbarian might live there. On the contrary, the tall grass compliments the perfectly pruned rose bushes that sit just below the white trimmed windows, thus giving you a glimpse at the conflicted personality of the home's owner; she's a gentle soul, torn between being wildly reckless and properly reserved. Just like the ivy that crawls across the once bright yellow walls, the influences of the ever-changing world around her have laced her heart with dark conflict. You'd think just by looking at her that her soul is untouched, but dig a little deeper and you'll find old, worn roots tangled among new life and frightening hope.