Episode 182: July 6, 2021

Veronica Veronese
by Jenivi7

        The model was beautiful. He had never worked with one that wasn't but she was perfect for this, he was sure. Her face and nose were long and angled in a way that was pleasing, lips full and dark, eyes deep set and honeyed, their color rich enough to turn violet in the light of the setting sun filtering through the window. Her hair reflected the heavy light in a red that shimmered, loosely bound to the back of her head and creating a still movement in patterned waves that made the edges of her face soft. The effect was why he had chosen her. Somewhere in the lines and shapes of her being, she had the look of an artist.


        Her dress was carefully selected for its patterns, texture and fullness about the arms. It was challenging. The fabric flexed in rich brights and darks and he was a master of his craft but each painting required new proof. He had gathered everything he saw in his mind, a flower, a bird, a violin, a wall draped with fabric. He sat the model at the small desk, placed everything so precisely...


        And nothing.


        He moved a yellow daffodil to the desk from where it threaded through the bars of the bird’s cage. He moved the fan to the model’s belt. He made her hold the violin three different ways before hanging it on the wall in front of her...


        Still nothing!


        He couldn't see the concept he was looking for.  He could not see the point he wanted (was being paid) to make.


        He couldn't see it.


        He couldn't see it.


        He couldn't see it.


        He couldn't see it.


        And through the man's incessant fiddling, the model sat patiently. For the most part. Bored, she tilted her head and her mind drifted. He could tell by the way her eyes became unfocused-




        He yelled for her to hold still but the shout was loud and demanding and she started sharply, head jerking forward and eyes snapping into focus again.


        The painter cussed and the woman’s eyes hardened to a dangerous degree causing him to offer hasty apologies. That had been it, what he was looking for, right there in front of him. He couldn't afford to make her mad. His words cajoled and petted and eventually the tension in her shoulders relaxed. 


        Arch your neck. Tilt your face. Head back further, good. Look off into the distance. Yes, I know there's nothing there but the wall. Pretend.


        "What are you looking for?" she asked, becoming impatient again with his shifting.


        The man grinned a wicked grin and she regretted the question.


        "Your soul."

Jenivi7 is an overgrown fangirl who sometimes writes things.
Copyright © 2021 Browncoat Enterprises, All rights reserved.

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