SHE

It was scorching outside. The sound of the traffic made my head reel and I longed to go inside. Art always fascinated me and I had heard a lot about this collection. Paintings are not just works of art, they are stories. When you paint someone, you do not just paint that person….you paint the life behind him, the struggles he has made, the things he has seen, the love he has lost. If you can

paint not only that person, but can also paint his story, then you are a true artist.

After a long wait, I stepped inside…..my senses tingling with anticipation. There was an eerie sort of silence inside and I felt like a pilgrim, finally reaching my destination. I looked around the room…a riot of hues.

Then my eyes fell upon her. Call it love at first sight…not that I believed in it, but when I saw her, something happened to me. She captured every sense of mine and I felt like shouting in exhilaration. There was something about her eyes. She must have seen a lot of pain yet the deep blue of her eyes had a prominent tranquility.

She was like this Goddess of etheral beauty. Immediately the song of James Blunt began to play in my mind….she’s beautiful. I tried to tear my eyes away, but it was like trying to breathe without air….I had never seen anyone like her.

I tried to do something to catch her eye, to elicit the flick of her long hair, a twist of her slender neck, but even at that moment, I knew I was mad. The adrenaline rush would not die down….I sat there for hours just to be with her.

I go there everyday. Just because she is there everyday as well. I know I can never be with her, she can never be mine…seeing her has become my habit. I need to see her everyday, drown in her eyes and bask in her beauty in order to live.

But yesterday, when I went…as usual…she was not there. The place felt empty without her and at first the fact did not register in my mind. When it did, I panicked. I ran around the whole place asking for her. Then I found out. They had sold her. I could not do anything, could not walk, could not cry…somehow I could not feel a thing. She took away all my feelings with her. I went back to where she used to be. The wall was blank, gaping scornfully at me. They had sold her…she must have found another lover. She was not a painting, she was a story that I had fallen in love with. I wanted to kill the people who had put a price on her… but she had gone…trapped in her frame…telling her story forever.