Red Monologue

The old woman sighed, too. She directed her attention to the poor lsplotchy bird still eating in her purse. “Why are you just sitting there?” she finally asked RED.
“Because there is no red for me to change.” RED said.
“Oh I see.”
The woman squatted and with a arthritic strain sat next to sad blob of red.
RED sniffed, “My color is never in the playground. I just wanted the slide. Is that too much to ask.”
“Why?” the old woman asked.
“BLUE has the sky. GREEN gets the grass and the trees. And, YELLOW, come on—it has the sun. All I get are fruits, a few traffic signs and some metaphors.” RED sunk deeper into a its gowning puddle of pity. “No on every notices me—unless it’s necessary—and even then it’s for emergency use only.”
“Now I understand,”

“Well then, take my hand. Go ahead, I will hold your hand while you flatten yourself out as far as you go, make you self really big, like a sheet of red, then snap, it will all be red.”
“Really?’ RED asked, never thinking such a wish would ever come true.
“Well, I don’t know. It is seems to me you could try and see,” she said, extending her open hand.
RED took it and became very thin, pulling, and stretching, tugging, and expanding and…

“That old coot,” she yelled back. “If there is only fact I could teach you— old men are born that way, old, it’s their colors that change—change to gray—otherwise they’re simply old from the day their were born. Now why don’t you take this little bird to the fountain for a good washing.
RED felt dismayed at the old woman and apparent lesson she DIDN’T teach. However, the sky burned with a flaming red and refection of it shaded every surface of every park bench, every chain link suspending every swing, every wrong along the ladder leading to the top of the slide.
The old woman, with the slyest of smiles, extended her arm to admire her long finergs in the red light. She hoisted opened her purse purse. A lovely cardinal flew up and out and all around.
“Come on, I’ll race you. By the way, I’m keeping the red.” The bird said, flying high before waving good-by.
RED rolled right behind, bouncing, jumping, and leaving nothing behind.
“Go figure.” The old man commented, helping the woman slip her bag over her shoulder.
“I know,” she said.
“A red bird—who would have thought.” He extended his arm to her. “I wonder if there are blue