Under cc license from Gary Foulger
His artwork was reputed to be lifelike. This one was titled “Broken Love”. She had seen it from the other side of the room and came close to study it further. The white towel swans stood out against the uneven red backdrop she perceived as rose petals. Had he named it after the wife he’d almost had?
He was standing alone watching the audience. For a change he wore a suit instead of the vest and shorts he usually preferred. Pain flashed through his eyes when she caught him by the elbow.
Was it true that he created his paints?
“Moon river…..” Sinatra crooned from the cd player, filling up the room.
The red dress set off her dusky skin to perfection. He moved the stray tendrils of hair framing her face into place and stepped back.
She looked angelic with the light falling on her face.
“I’m scared I won’t be able to do justice to you.”
“Don’t worry, it’ll be perfect. I trust you” she said with a soft smile.
Turning to his palette he squeezed the paint from the tubes. He took a deep breath and the first strokes of paint added colour to the blank canvas.