Excerpt:

He pictured himself in a smaller shape on a red bicycle with a glittery banana seat looking out across the valley to the sun setting behind the mountain, the clouds and the sky and the mountainside containing almost every color that he could have chosen from his box of crayons. The obvious ones, red, orange and blue would have worked of course, but he had determined that he would have used the ones that were ACTUALLY present: cornflower and navy blues, forest and pine greens, both red-orange AND orange-red, burnt orange and bittersweet, aquamarine, azure, magenta, and even some lemon yellow. This would be a true work of art, a masterpiece and he stayed until violet became red violet which became violet blue and then midnight blue and finally, almost black. Reluctantly he turned his bike back down the road and pedaled slowly homeward only to be greeted by grim faced parents issuing the verdict that he was grounded. They just didn’t understand. They would never understand.