An adult autistic perspective on growing up on the Autism Spectrum.

paint-disaster.mp3

I owe an explaination for this one. I work part time for a paint company. We received a delivery and it ended up on the ground, all 200 gallons of it. I decided to write about it and share it with even though it has nothing to do with autism, other than the fact that I wrote it and I have autism….Please enjoy!

The back of the delivery truck is covered with paint. The sun beats down blindingly. 40 five gallons bucket lay strewn on the ground as if tossed like a huge handful of dice. Broken buckets, already empty of their contents, lay dented and destroyed. Others still seep from unseen cracks, adding to the river that is forming down the middle of the industrial park driveway. Scattered are quarts of tint, violet purple and deep dark brown oils, defiantly refusing to mix among the white goop.
Blacktop slowly disappears, as the river becomes a flood. With each passing second, stark white eats away at gravel. Broken lids float like disks of wood down to the mounting puddle. Bags of stay dry spill their contents against the arguing mess, blocking any avenue of escape. Heat bites at the top, turning tides into ripples, which sag against the sand. Light shines brightly, cresting buildings as it begins to set.
Shovels scrape against concrete and the flood retreats, only to flow more forcefully towards another barricade. Chunks of colored clay like rocks squish beneath the force of a scraping blade. Dust flies through the air, attaching like glue to any wet surface. Wet silky whiteness turns to dark brown as more sand invades its territory. Buckets once filled with fluid, now rise with a more firm matter that is quickly becoming solid.
A machine roars to life, spewing water shoots through a high-pressure gun releasing the blacktop from its confiner. Gravel flies through the air like projectile missiles, while a film of hardened paint reluctantly gives up its ground. Shadows creep to the edges and over take what has yet to be cast off as sunlight fades and a battle rages on. Water pushes debris far down the line, as fresh gravel claims its victory and a machine slowly dies.

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