Crayon Book Novels & Stories

The crayon rolled halfway across the stone floor before stopping next to Jenny’s toes. Jenny bent down to pick up the crayon. The paper wrapper of the crayon made a “rustling” sound against her fingertips. When her fingers touched the crayon, the cracks in the wax expanded slightly. A small piece of wax broke off from the crack and fell onto the back of her hand, emitting a pinkish glow in the gray light.

They chose to sit on the back porch and enjoy the morning that was turning into noon. "Can you draw?" Shareeza asked as she opened a crayon box with too many colors. Alethea was surprised and impressed when she saw it. During school, she had only been able to use a 12-color pencil set, and those were short. Even when she went to a bookstore, the largest set she'd seen was 48 colors. But Shareeza's? Rich people really were different, Alethea thought to herself in awe.

I ask, skipping backwards as he walks over to the couch and drops the bag on the cushions. “Go ahead,” he says, “look for yourself.” I tear into the bag, pulling the gifts out in a fevered charge. Today he's brought me a coloring book and crayons! It's exactly what I asked him for yesterday. I said I wanted something to color, because I remember doing that when I was a lot younger and feeling heaven pass over me when I had a crayon in my hand. The whole world could be on fire and I think I'd still be drawing in my books, entirely oblivious to everything around me.