Flames by Seorin Kae at Spillwordds.com



written by: Seorin Kae



She carefully plans the painting. First she decides on the theme and mixes the colors she will need. She chooses different shades of red and black as her main colors. She imagines the textures and shadows as she draws the first sketch.

In her mind she imagines the young man’s features. She wants to capture the tenderness in his eyes and the strength portrayed in his cheekbones. In every stroke of her brush she wants to bring a part of him to life. She tries not to blush at the thought of his lips or the softness of his hands.

There are no real clues that show his true form in the painting. Only those that know the feelings buried deep in a young and undefiled heart can begin understand the meaning of the painting. Only those that know the simplicity of unbroken hope and courage can find the truth behind the strange shapes and bright colors.

“Lovely!” or “Beautiful!” are the expressions people use to describe her works. That is all they have to say. They haven’t seen the tears she shed or the doubt or even the now faint hope in her eyes. They only guess that she is the happiest young artist and imagine her to take long walks and watch the sunset every night.

They do not know about any of her obsessions. They guess her hobbies to be somewhat boring and unfascinating. This is not a complete lie of course and she does take an interest in candlelight and can spend hours in one section of a bookstore.

“Ladies and gentleman, we present to you the young lady that brought us all together at this exhibition tonight.” This is what she has been working to achieve hour after hour, day after day. This is where she imagined herself standing and this is the kind of revenge she yearned for countless nights.

As she walks down the hallway toward the stage, someone taps her on her shoulder. She turns and glances at the very eyes that once inspired her to start these kinds of paintings. She looks him straight in the eyes. There is no more heartache or hatred to hide. He looks baffled by the calmness in her manner.

“I heard that there would be an exhibition. I did not expect to be seeing you,” he says.
“I changed my name,” she responds softly. She smiles and walks past him. She walks past the shattered hopes she once cherished and past the flames he ignited in her. She no longer feels the need to look back and keeps her eyes fixed on the steps in front of her.

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