The Painting: Final Part.

by | Jul 7, 2023 | Uncategorized | 0 comments

Lachlan stared into those beautiful onyx jewels adorned with sweeping black lashes below the pair of ebony eyebrows

“I am sorry but I must go. Thank you for the coffee and tour of your new enterprise, ” he uttered, shaking the man’s hand, preparing to leave.

“Thank you sir, err… La… err, my friend, ” the old man stuttered, struggling to recall his friend’s strange name.

“It’s Lachlan pronounced Lack Lan, ” he reassured his elderly companion. He drew shapes in the air with his finger, “like much and won’t in your language,” he continued, smiling.

Masuda’s eyes lit up, “lak-lan, ah yes, I see,” he cried, mirroring the young man’s actions, “nice to meet you Mr Much Won’t, haha.”

That night the young man was visited again by the siren of his dreams and yet again, she was walking away from him. Far from being alone, as she had been in previous dreams, she seemed to be surrounded by an increasing number of attractive young admirers. He recognised the elegant neck and exquisite ear, from the painting, a work of art in its own right, as she turned to go with them.

He arose that morning desperate to catch a glimpse of the old man’s work. Unfortunately he was out of luck as there was no sign of life in the gallery on that Saturday nor the following day. For two more nights he was tormented by the raven haired beauty. Each night the number of admirers grew until he could hardly see her for their clamouring demands for her attention.

By the time Monday came, he was prepared to break into the tiny shop to catch a glimpse of her partial likeness. That was not necessary however as, on arriving at the premises, he was preceded by a handful of curious onlookers. They were watching this strange old man sitting with his back to the window applying paint deftly to the canvas in front of him.
The small crowd eventually dispersed and Lachlan had a ringside view of his friend’s creation which, by now, had the elegantly pointed chin and full lower lip like the bud of a deep red rose. Instinctively the old man turned and nodded at his new friend. With one last lingering look at his precious, he turned and made off down the high street to work.

His every thought was with her, impatiently anticipating the old man’s brush strokes. As he sat at his desk, he contemplated the fact that she was incomplete and therefore alone. She was an undiscovered star in the galaxy, waiting for the astronomers telescope to pick her out. While she was like that she was his but equally, he contemplated, with some dread, the fact that once she was whole and the world’s eyes met hers, she would be history to him. He knew that her eyes would be the last objects the old Egyptian would recreate, to make the spell complete; the spell which had enchanted his slumber for years.

Every day for two weeks Lachlan turned up at the window, receiving the nod of acknowledgement from the painter, and the crowd would grow bigger. Every night, her fantastic alter ego would be followed by more suitors. Back in the street, people started jockeying for position to get a good vantage point of the emerging beauty. Most of the gathering now consisted of attractive smartly dressed young men with whom Lachlan could never compete.

Then, on the final day, the day of truth, the old man began on the eyes. The assembly of fans gathered with bated breath at the anticipated completion of the beauty, just as the artist had predicted. Lachlan was pushed further to the rear of the throng by the increasing numbers of admirers, in a mirror image of his dream.

Suddenly there was a gasp from the horde as the old man stepped away from the canvas and the image of the muse was revealed. Far from revelling in her beauty, Lachlan stared into those beautiful onyx jewels adorned with sweeping black lashes below the pair of ebony eyebrows struck by the brush of Monet himself and cried. He cried for what was lost to him and what was lost to her. He wept for her innocence and credulity, he wept for his own deprivation.

Lachlan turned and walked slowly away from his discovery knowing that his time had gone and she was now out in the open to the adulation of the world. He acknowledged the fact that she deserved it for, as the old man had rightly said, she was indeed the most beautiful person, inside and outside, he had ever encountered.



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