The canvas set.
Every stroke vivid.
Every line drawn, nuanced.
Painting with deep, resonant colors.
The tones shift, the lighting rewrought.
Building in layers upon layers, each subject meticulously captured.
Standing back, we look again before changing direction.
Every subtlety intentional.
The canvas complete, the critics arise.
In painted prose—a novel.
Rhythmic and regular, the click and swish continue incessantly.Each thread woven in sequence, layering side by side.Slowly the colors emerge, interwoven amidst the threads designed to strengthen.The cut of the fabric is shaped and molded.Every stitch, meticulous; every fold, crucial. The narrative robed in cloth.
The light flickered… the landscape, reflected and mirrored, stretches out, filling the expanse. The little pieces are placed—trees and bushes set, and then adjusted perfectly. The intricate details were difficult to manage, but these… miniature, small… diminutive… I am not even sure anymore what to call them. They are detailed and seem perfect for the…
The fog-laden evening chilled him to the bone as he stood beneath the street lamp. “I am getting too old for this,” he mutters. The juxtaposing hard-soft glow of the lamps created an eerie duality of light on the street. The longshadows dancing in the wind-blown lamplight. The headlights shine on him briefly as the…
“This damn clock—why are they always so difficult when he is around?” The old, haggard clockmaker hunches over a bench. The man in the dark cloak sits in the corner, waiting. The clockmaker struggles with this piece. He must get it working. It is no longer a matter of payment, but one of pride. He…
The damn birds… the incessant cooing. If Patty could think of a better punishment… she would. She could not forget her little Katie’s laughter from the back seat. Her daughter, so bright and joyful. They had been laughing about something. Try though she did, she could never recall what. The pigeons filled the road ahead,…
“Excuse me, excuse me. Excuse me!” Aida repeated in ever-louder tones. Protect and deliver were his instructions, and… as Billy was wont to say… “by God, that’s what I will do!” Jetting down the hallway, he skated around various people and automated delivery units. Not as efficient as one might expect, but they do the…
