I held the green-tipped paintbrush carefully then wiped it across the canvas, mixing it with the purple. My new painting was a stormy afternoon as I took a shot of whiskey. I also smoked half a cigarette before getting a root beer so I can take my pills. I stood back, contemplating my artwork and nodding my head. "That's good," I muttered to myself. My eyes shifted to the refrigerator when I licked at my lips.
Thank God I still have those nachos from last night, I mentally told myself. After eating the cheesy chips, I popped a mint in my mouth to attempt to have fresh breath.
I took both a mental/physical break from the painting and walked to the window, blankly staring out. The hazy sunrise sky was streaked with peach and maroon; spots of blue combined with red.
That's when I looked down to see the small figure. It always takes a damn minute to walk down the stairs, but takes forty seconds if you walk faster.
The figure was the same petite girl plucking down feathers out of a pillow with a pair of tweezers. She saw me peripherally then went back to the plucking before actually looking at me.
I smiled slightly then walked slowly when she furrowed her forehead, cocking a nicely done eyebrow. I backed away from her, my hands raised as if I was surrendering. The girl, whose name I found out yesterday is Grace, stood up from a chair and went to me. She licked the inside of her upper lip, peeking over my shoulder to see another man in a red hoodie hunched over. She went to him and I heard her ask him if he needed anything. I also heard him saying that he really didn't needed anything, but that he was thankful that she asked. Nearly back at her spot, she interrogated, "Can you stop looking at me, please?"
Shaking off my stupid look, I responded, "Yes, absolutely. Just that I wanted to introduce myself to you."
She squinted her cognac-colored eyes at me then hesitated.
"Aren't you that guy yesterday?"
"The one looking at you?"
I had to; I wanted to say no, but then-
"Yes. Hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable."
She shook her head then smiled.
Her cheeks were extra plump than the cherubic state they were yesterday.
"I'm telling you the truth, by the by."
"Okay," I said.
I looked down for a split second, suddenly discovering her walking away.
"Well, thank you for stopping by."
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Roses in Heaven
Ficción GeneralWhat happens when a depressed painter and an autistic beauty cross paths? You get this: David, a soft-spoken, unhappy artist who treats the sweet Grace into a life of pampering and learns about her sensitivity to dark subject matter and how she cope...
