SWN1994
Star
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2015
- Location
- Somewhere with four walls
The painting was as if time had taken a step back to simpler times and for a moment no one else was around. Jason stood in the art exhibit with wide eyes as he found a painting of himself of all people being displayed. There, where he stood, he stared at himself in his teens covered in chalk pastels well under the pale moonlight. Everything in those painting popped out to him from his hair being brushed back, the bright smile he once held, and the sloshes of colorful powders on his tan skin and wine-red hair. The painting was not only recognizable because the subject was himself, but he had seen this as a photo once.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a woman’s voice was soft as she brought Jason back from long ago memories. Since this painting, or photo, Jason had changed a bit as his skin had lighten and his hair was a darker shade and wine-red, not to mention he wore glasses now and his freckles hidden under some make-up. He liked different upon a quick glance, though someone he had known him would probably be able to see the same boy in the man next to the painting.
“Quite…who painted this?”
“My husband! Oh, you are from the magazine, correct? Wait right here I will go fetch him!”
“N-no that isn’t…. needed…” she ran off before Jason could finish his sentence. Looking back to the painting he frowned and felt his heart pound again. It had been so long.
Jason could still remember that day with the foreign boy. He had spent that summer showing him around and when The Festival of Colours came up and being so excited at the time had happily invited his “friend” to the festival. That night Jason had taken him up to the farmhouse, an abounded house in his village, and that was where the photo was taken. From that old porch. Those were memories which were bittersweet.
“I can’t.” Jason spoke to himself as he made his way to escape when one of the serves accidently spilled water on him. He had to stay there, being a nice as he was, and try to calm the server and saying he was okay. Jason just wanted to leave.
The woman returned shortly, Jason could hear her talking to her husband already.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a woman’s voice was soft as she brought Jason back from long ago memories. Since this painting, or photo, Jason had changed a bit as his skin had lighten and his hair was a darker shade and wine-red, not to mention he wore glasses now and his freckles hidden under some make-up. He liked different upon a quick glance, though someone he had known him would probably be able to see the same boy in the man next to the painting.
“Quite…who painted this?”
“My husband! Oh, you are from the magazine, correct? Wait right here I will go fetch him!”
“N-no that isn’t…. needed…” she ran off before Jason could finish his sentence. Looking back to the painting he frowned and felt his heart pound again. It had been so long.
Jason could still remember that day with the foreign boy. He had spent that summer showing him around and when The Festival of Colours came up and being so excited at the time had happily invited his “friend” to the festival. That night Jason had taken him up to the farmhouse, an abounded house in his village, and that was where the photo was taken. From that old porch. Those were memories which were bittersweet.
“I can’t.” Jason spoke to himself as he made his way to escape when one of the serves accidently spilled water on him. He had to stay there, being a nice as he was, and try to calm the server and saying he was okay. Jason just wanted to leave.
The woman returned shortly, Jason could hear her talking to her husband already.