by Sparks In Shadow
“It’s like a ceiling of leaves overhead – sounding like rough paintbrushes fixing patterns on the sky.” She moved closer to the painting. “Life. And decay stirring with the life unseen…”
“Aerin, stop. I can’t take this tonight.” He sighed. “It’s bad enough you see what isn’t there. Now you’re pretending to hear things?”
She shrank from his glare.
Lia joined them, gushing. “This is so beautiful!”
Aerin smiled. “Yes. I’d love to buy it.”
“Good lord,” he said, cringing.
Aerin approached the painting, fingers extended but not touching it, as though the material would burn if she did.
This was written after viewing a different photo of a specific piece of artwork, but the artist hasn’t responded yet to my request to use it.