Cities that Never Sleep

xxii

Katherine went to see the painting.

The small art gallery was not very busy, and was on an isolated street with a dingy liquor store just across. But when she walked inside, she was surprised by its sophistication.

Although much more compact, it looked how Katherine would imagine an art gallery to look like. The walls were clean and white, perhaps to not draw away attention from the artwork. There were sculptures as well as paintings that were elegantly displayed, and intrigued people walking around, studying the art intently.

Katherine did the same. She walked around, trying to blend in like any other art-viewer, looking and admiring each piece she came across.

She didn't have to ask for a name, because Katherine knew which painting was Finn's the moment her eyes landed on it.

When she finally came across it, her breath hitched. She wanted to lean in closer, but was also afraid to.

Katherine wasn't really sure how to describe the painting. It felt as if she was feeling every emotion at the same time-nostalgia being one that greatly consumed her. It was the feeling of hearing your favorite song for the first time, to the feeling of looking at an old picture of a day that you distinctly remember.

It was chaos. Thin and thick streaks of coffee stained across the canvas messily, splatters of different shades of brown here and there. She could imagine Finn standing in his dorm, flicking his paint brush carelessly yet gracefully at the blank canvas paper and watching the aftermath.

But as she stared at it long enough, the way some of the lines connected wasn't a coincidence. They seemed to blurredly make up a cityscape. And in the middle of the city looked to be a girl, made up of the same, messy scribbles. She was drinking coffee, hands positioned at a funny angle around her cup to give the impression that she was practically inhaling it. Her eyes held a certain expression; one that was soft but stern, hard but broken.

Katherine didn't really know how long she stood there, just staring at the painting. But people didn't seem to mind. Instead, they seemed to understand as they came across it themselves. Maybe that's why Finn fit in perfectly with the art world.

In her long minutes of gazing at the painting as if she was gazing at the stars, she realized that the painting was consuming the girl. The girl was the painting. She was the city.

And Katherine wanted to laugh, but she also wanted to cry.

Instead, she closed her eyes calmly, and when she opened them again, she noticed the small plaque in the corner beneath the painting.

Cities that Never Sleep, it read, by Finn Burrell.