[2x Featured]
The moment you meet your soulmate, you feel it like the wind brushing against your skin when time stops.
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Finally ready to make an attempt at moving on from a loss that shattered her entire life, Ey...
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The day had long since begun for the outside world. Conversations swirled around, and there was the clicking of cameras from very excited tourists rushing to take a bit of the town with them before they had to leave. The paddling of feet of locals going about their business and that soothing background music that slipped through every speaker hung around the town.
Little tidbits of each beautiful moment rocked their way ever so gently into the apartment, circulating through the room. Causing an ease that made the brush feel so much lighter than it was as it swept over the canvas with a mind of its own. Just as people went about their business indirectly documenting a tale, the brush moved around, telling a tale of its own before my brain could even catch up.
My eyes glazed over with each stroke, the detail of the story finding its way to the light. The stench of paint consumed my senses as I moved forward on my stool, accenting another minor feature. And with each moment that led up to the resolution of the painting came a lightness that just devoured every bit of tension in the body.
The brush fell from my hands and I released a sharp breath, taking a step back from the canvas. The stool stumbled to the floor but my eyes were stuck on the picture before me. I blinked away the trance of movement, hoping to see the finished product a lot better.
I reached out for my mug filled with my latest drink combination and took a sip out of it. I'd long since forgotten which mixture I was on now, but I didn't care for it much as long as it eased up the moment after.
The picture came in clearer, and my eyes narrowed instantly at the scene before me. I cocked my head to the side, my brows creasing.
What?
I dropped the mug back to the table, not fully checking if I placed it properly as I rushed inside the storage room where the dry canvas of pictures I'd painted was. Spotting the drawing I'd painted the day before, I plucked it from its position on the floor and rushed back out to the living room, my body heat suddenly increasing with each passing second.
Trickles of sweat rose at the base of my neck just as I placed the old one on an empty easel beside the new one. I sucked in a sharp breath, looking at both of them side by side.
