FoxWriter
Cluster
- Joined
- Jan 20, 2011
- Location
- in the realm of lust and seduction
It was a cold morning, it wasn't too cold, there was no snow, but there was a firm layer of frost on everything when the people of the city woke in the morning. It was cold enough to give frostbite to anyone stupid enough to go around without shoes, or for the few unfortunate, unable to buy shoes. There was one such boy sitting huddled under a tent, his feet buried in a sleeping bag so he would hopefully, not get frostbite. He was young and very handsome, but filthy from head to toe, his clothes too small and tattered, and he was too skinny to be all that physically appealing, though proper meals would fix that in no time at all. He had chestnut brown hair and a soft face that would lite up the world if he where to just smile, but he was too miserable for smiles. He was homeless after all, huddled in a flimsy tent that collapsed every time the wind blew too hard, no shoes, in shorts and a t-shirt which is what he had been wearing when he'd run away from home. His chocolate brown eyes turned to the crowds of people that where passing by in front of his little tent, completely ignoring him, and the paintings he had on display.
His name was Able, like Cain and Able, he'd even had an elder brother named Cain, but Cain was dead, in an ironic twist it was Cain who had died in the struggle, not between siblings, but between father and son. Able's father was a drunk, and an angry one at that, and didn't like his son's doing such 'girly' thinks like painting and dancing. Cain, being the elder, had suffered the brunt of their fathers wrath, and when their father had finally snapped and beaten Cain to death, Able had packed up all of his painting things, had hopped a train, and had vanished from his hometown, hopefully forever. Able had settled into the streets hoping to sell his paintings, but so far, no one had even glanced at them, or him, ignoring him completely as if he didn't even exist, and with winter coming, Able knew death would be coming on swift wings.
It was hard to imagine that the paintings weren't getting any attention though, they where gorgeous, and done almost perfectly. The colors where vibrant and the pictures themselves perfectly lifelike. There was a mystical forest with a unicorn standing in the middle of it, bathed in light and looking perfectly elegant. There was a pile of waterfalls streaming off of a cliff, showering mist and rainbows everywhere, there was even an adorably fluffy kitten sitting in a basket with ribbons all over. Able had only enough paint to finish his last painting, this one of a faceless man peering down into his hands, which where cupped to hold water, the angle as such that you couldn't see the face, but should have seen the reflection in the water, but it was only half finished, so he blew into his hands, trying to pull warmth into them, settled out into the open so that people could watch him paint, hoping that someone, anyone would take an interest, and buy one, just one, then he could buy a pair of socks, another canvas, more paint, and some food... god he was so hungry.
His name was Able, like Cain and Able, he'd even had an elder brother named Cain, but Cain was dead, in an ironic twist it was Cain who had died in the struggle, not between siblings, but between father and son. Able's father was a drunk, and an angry one at that, and didn't like his son's doing such 'girly' thinks like painting and dancing. Cain, being the elder, had suffered the brunt of their fathers wrath, and when their father had finally snapped and beaten Cain to death, Able had packed up all of his painting things, had hopped a train, and had vanished from his hometown, hopefully forever. Able had settled into the streets hoping to sell his paintings, but so far, no one had even glanced at them, or him, ignoring him completely as if he didn't even exist, and with winter coming, Able knew death would be coming on swift wings.
It was hard to imagine that the paintings weren't getting any attention though, they where gorgeous, and done almost perfectly. The colors where vibrant and the pictures themselves perfectly lifelike. There was a mystical forest with a unicorn standing in the middle of it, bathed in light and looking perfectly elegant. There was a pile of waterfalls streaming off of a cliff, showering mist and rainbows everywhere, there was even an adorably fluffy kitten sitting in a basket with ribbons all over. Able had only enough paint to finish his last painting, this one of a faceless man peering down into his hands, which where cupped to hold water, the angle as such that you couldn't see the face, but should have seen the reflection in the water, but it was only half finished, so he blew into his hands, trying to pull warmth into them, settled out into the open so that people could watch him paint, hoping that someone, anyone would take an interest, and buy one, just one, then he could buy a pair of socks, another canvas, more paint, and some food... god he was so hungry.