Spilled Paint

157 2 1
                                    

Punk

┊ ⋆ ┊   .   ┊   ┊
┊    ┊⋆     ┊   .
┊    ┊       ⋆˚              
✧.  ┊

She was cleaning off some clothes down at the lake that belonged to a new Highwayman who wasn't worthy of Master Zilon's teachings and got hung and dipped into paint by his feet. Once she hangs up the clothes, she goes over to Master Zilon who was talking about... something.

"His ideas and feelings were too raw and crude. He wore nothing, no weight or stress on his shoulders as he painted or sprayed or drew. He knew nothing and will continue to know nothing but pink and blue..."

She glanced at the body that was covered in pink and blue swirls. Zilon was painting designs and symbols onto the body. She tried not to think about it too much as she was about to go inside.

"Punk! I need you to paint a silo south of The Chop Shop. It is dirty as hell... so it needs some pink... and maybe some yellow." He thinks and turns to her, blinking a few times as if his brain was completely on another planet. "Have hot stuff over there drive you."

She turns to see an unrecognizable highwaymen leaning against a truck. He wore middle-class gear, with a rifle in his hands. She takes a deep breath and lets it out, gathering everything she needs. Paints, brushes, ropes, grappling hook, and towels.

She drove with the highwayman who just mumbled along with the music as they drove across the dusty roads. Keep My Cool thumped along as they stopped and they left it on, even though she would rather listen to the nature around her. She throws up her grappling hook, attaching it to her ropes so she can move up and down how she wants along the silo. Over the years she has gotten better at grappling. It just took a bit of practice and the building up of her muscles. Her dad tried to teach her, but she wasn't strong enough at the time. He would always lower her down in the cave and they would create art together. He would draw some kind of cross symbol and stare at it while she would just do her own thing. She missed it all... a lot.

The highwayman just stood guard, looking around, cleaning his gun, or singing along to the music. She looked around on the side of the dirty silo. She decides to just pour the pink and yellow along the silo after scrubbing it a bit with a wet rag. It was pretty rusty... Some water puddles have gathered around the silo, so that was good for her. She spread out the paint if it clumped up some but the dripping and blending looked pretty good...

She did some random paintings, spraying some scattered tires or part of a train car as the solid colors dried on the silo. This would be vandalizing back before the bombs but now it is a symbol of territorial power within art. She seemed to only enjoy the art part though...

Kolony Anthem was playing by now and she started to draw some designs, along with some loose sketches of Mickey and Lou, and maybe a small picture of their father. She would draw hearts, pointed arrows, jagged lines, and middle fingers pointing towards the sky. The Highwaymen would go wild over art like this... and for some reason... she was good at it. It is like she was meant to become one of them.

It took several hours to finish and she could tell the highwaymen guarding her was getting annoyed. He would look up at her, take off his helmet, tap his foot and walk back and forth. What else could he be doing right now?

"Could you hurry it up a little? I gotta play with the boys tonight."

Oh of course... the 'boys'. So important.

"I'm finishing up." Is all she says as she paints along the metal. Soon enough, she did finish and she lowered herself to the bottom. She gathered up all her things and set them in the back of the truck after releasing her grapple. She gets in the truck and he drifts off, leaving her masterpiece plastered on the old, tilted silo.

Lost in TimeWhere stories live. Discover now