The Painter
By Smriti Prabhat
Adam was going to turn 24 and his sister gifted him a special appointment with Lesse, his favorite painter. He was overwhelmed as she was the best. To avoid any last minute complications, his sister had decided to get an appointment fixed for 7:30am the next day. Ms.Lesse was a much coveted painter and such an appointment with her was a commendable gift indeed, especially for a huge fan like Adam.
The next day, on his birthday, he got up really late and had to rush. He didn't want Lesse to think anything wrong about his punctuality etiquettes. Her studio was some 20 mins away from his home. He got off the cab and as he was running across he road, a speeding car- black with weird orange stripes nearly killed him. The close shave dazed him for a moment and for a second, he lost track of what was happening. Regaining his composure and straightening his tie, he walked into the studio and saw her sitting there.
Lesse was easily one of the best looking girls he had ever seen. Her lovely olive complexion, and that careless grace stunned him. He had always been a fan but the thing he now felt for her was something different.
He had been hit. That too, badly.
It wasn't any different for her either.
She painted him and such was the passion that they felt, that when she finished her work, it was 11pm. They hadn't even exchanged a word with each other the whole day and yet, the magic was working. She wrapped up the painting and gave it to him. It was love and they knew it.
They dined out together and got to know each other a little more.
He walked her to her place, took her number and hailed a cab. He kept on thinking about her all the way. He couldn't even sleep a wink that night, thinking about the wonderful time they had spent together.
Love was cliched, he sighed.
The other morning, he got up and called her up. No one picked the call. He tried a few times more but since, no one answered, he decided to drop into her studio. He wore his best suit and also took some white lilies with him- her favorite like she'd told him.
On reaching there, he found her secretary. When he inquired about her, she told him, in between sobs and sniffles that Lesse died, yesterday.
He was shocked. His throat was choked. Getting a hold on himself, he asked her how it had happened. She told him that yesterday morning, at about 7:15am, a black car with orange stripes hit her on the road in front of the studio and she died on the spot.
He couldn't believe her. He thought that some joke was being played upon him, and hence told her that he had had an appointment with her yesterday and she could check for Adam Frost in her register. She checked it in front of him, just to assure him that a certain Adam Frost certainly had an appointment but didn't turn up. They didn't even get a chance to call him since they were themselves really shocked by what all had happened.
Adam could not believe it.
He had some water. The secretary, thinking that he'd been through a bad shock, let him be alone. Thinking to himself, he thought that maybe, it was all a bad dream. Maybe he'd just overslept. He'd not met her at all and was just dreaming about it. It was pretty possible since he had been too obsessed about the meeting.
So, being a practical individual that he was, Adam dismissed the whole episode, and decided to attend Lesse's funeral.
A last attempt to ward off the fear of a joke being played, perhaps.
In the funeral, there were her friends, family and many fans like him, who were howling away to glory. But Adam was still thinking about the dinner, the careless grace and the olive complexion.
After the funeral, he went back to his place. He was very tired, sad and confused. This whole episode and left him in a daze. He decided to brew himself a coffee and settled down comfortably on his armchair. Suddenly, as he was sipping his first, his eyes fell upon a wrapped package near the fireplace. He couldn't quite place what it was.
And suddenly it all came back.
The olive complexion.
And the painting.
He was stunned and more than that, he was scared. What he'd dismissed off as a mere dream was lying in front of him- neatly wrapped up.
He opened the covering off the canvas carefully and saw the painting.
In it, he was wearing a black suit and standing upon a grave with white lilies.
And also, a note reading 'Happy Birthday'.
- - -
I write.
A little verse
and
A little prose.
But, mostly little.
Sometimes, more.
By Smriti Prabhat
Adam was going to turn 24 and his sister gifted him a special appointment with Lesse, his favorite painter. He was overwhelmed as she was the best. To avoid any last minute complications, his sister had decided to get an appointment fixed for 7:30am the next day. Ms.Lesse was a much coveted painter and such an appointment with her was a commendable gift indeed, especially for a huge fan like Adam.
The next day, on his birthday, he got up really late and had to rush. He didn't want Lesse to think anything wrong about his punctuality etiquettes. Her studio was some 20 mins away from his home. He got off the cab and as he was running across he road, a speeding car- black with weird orange stripes nearly killed him. The close shave dazed him for a moment and for a second, he lost track of what was happening. Regaining his composure and straightening his tie, he walked into the studio and saw her sitting there.
Lesse was easily one of the best looking girls he had ever seen. Her lovely olive complexion, and that careless grace stunned him. He had always been a fan but the thing he now felt for her was something different.
He had been hit. That too, badly.
It wasn't any different for her either.
She painted him and such was the passion that they felt, that when she finished her work, it was 11pm. They hadn't even exchanged a word with each other the whole day and yet, the magic was working. She wrapped up the painting and gave it to him. It was love and they knew it.
They dined out together and got to know each other a little more.
He walked her to her place, took her number and hailed a cab. He kept on thinking about her all the way. He couldn't even sleep a wink that night, thinking about the wonderful time they had spent together.
Love was cliched, he sighed.
The other morning, he got up and called her up. No one picked the call. He tried a few times more but since, no one answered, he decided to drop into her studio. He wore his best suit and also took some white lilies with him- her favorite like she'd told him.
On reaching there, he found her secretary. When he inquired about her, she told him, in between sobs and sniffles that Lesse died, yesterday.
He was shocked. His throat was choked. Getting a hold on himself, he asked her how it had happened. She told him that yesterday morning, at about 7:15am, a black car with orange stripes hit her on the road in front of the studio and she died on the spot.
He couldn't believe her. He thought that some joke was being played upon him, and hence told her that he had had an appointment with her yesterday and she could check for Adam Frost in her register. She checked it in front of him, just to assure him that a certain Adam Frost certainly had an appointment but didn't turn up. They didn't even get a chance to call him since they were themselves really shocked by what all had happened.
Adam could not believe it.
He had some water. The secretary, thinking that he'd been through a bad shock, let him be alone. Thinking to himself, he thought that maybe, it was all a bad dream. Maybe he'd just overslept. He'd not met her at all and was just dreaming about it. It was pretty possible since he had been too obsessed about the meeting.
So, being a practical individual that he was, Adam dismissed the whole episode, and decided to attend Lesse's funeral.
A last attempt to ward off the fear of a joke being played, perhaps.
In the funeral, there were her friends, family and many fans like him, who were howling away to glory. But Adam was still thinking about the dinner, the careless grace and the olive complexion.
After the funeral, he went back to his place. He was very tired, sad and confused. This whole episode and left him in a daze. He decided to brew himself a coffee and settled down comfortably on his armchair. Suddenly, as he was sipping his first, his eyes fell upon a wrapped package near the fireplace. He couldn't quite place what it was.
And suddenly it all came back.
The olive complexion.
And the painting.
He was stunned and more than that, he was scared. What he'd dismissed off as a mere dream was lying in front of him- neatly wrapped up.
He opened the covering off the canvas carefully and saw the painting.
In it, he was wearing a black suit and standing upon a grave with white lilies.
And also, a note reading 'Happy Birthday'.
- - -
I write.
A little verse
and
A little prose.
But, mostly little.
Sometimes, more.
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