the coloring book

The stranger approached me cautiously.  Maybe because I was grinning lopsidedly.
"What's going on here?  What's happening?"
"Nothing really, I'm just happy because I'm getting ready to go home."
"Oh! How long has it been since you left there?"
"Eighty-nine years." I said.  He whistled softly.
"Must be tough to be alone, mate gone, what do you do all day?"
"I just keep coloring inside the lines!"
"Really!" Clearly he was a bit curious. "How long do you plan to do this?"
"That's the thing. I haven't the foggiest idea. He never even gives me a hint, just gives me a clean page every morning.  I don't always agree with His choice of colors, but I keep what He gives me."
"Why? Can't you swap them in?"
"Yeah!  I tried that once or twice, but the results were pitiful.  He's the Master Artist, you see.  But even when I scribble outside the lines, He just smiles at me and gives me another page."
"Strange!" he muttered, pulling at his beard as he slowly walked away.
                                                                             W. Wangerin (adapted)