Note: I will write when I'm in the mood. Otherwise I will feel horrible for neglecting my obligation to finish this story in a certain period of time. Smiles!
-sai wang
A faint pulse jolted through his fingers, quickly shooting back to its origin – his pounding heart. He felt his breath shorten into nervous gasps. Although squeaks and murmurs resounded off the previous room, his eyes fixated on the portrait without break. And then sweat slithered down his wrinkled forehead and dissipated into his bushy eyebrow. Tension hovered within the still room where he stood alone at the windowsill.
The portrait was muddy. Much of the background was stained with a melancholy hue with dashes of dark beige and ruddy brown. By the observer a tear could be easily shed for such a piece. The multitude of sketch marks made the image tacky, but the manner in which it was shown proved otherwise. A rich mahogany border outlined the delicate parchment with a bold dominance. It had an essence of makeshift-grandeur to it.
He took a step closer toward the protected canvas. He noticed it has only been four years since the piece was published. Quite remarkable it was, he thought, for it could easily pass for something archaic.
He hovered back toward the windowsill again to get a breath of air. Daylight was diminishing slowly, and the shadows twisted and stretched with agony. Then he noticed from the corner of his eyes. He blinked and parted his hair.
A woman dressed in a white coat stood by a bench on the adjacent street. Her hat covered the distinguished part of her beautiful face, but one could still recognize her by her striking brown eyes. He blinked once again and squinted. She looked familiar.
Then it hit him. He quickly jolted back to the portrait. Nothing. Nothing but the same mahogany border outlining a murky background lay nailed to the wall. The portrait-the person-had disappeared.
Once again he dashed back to the sill and apprehensively peered out. A businessman sat calmly on the same bench reading a newspaper. He eyed the length of the street. Nothing. Though a crowd bustled along the sidewalk, her conspicuous attire would surely give no concealment. That was it. She was gone.
His eyes widened in dismay. Baffled, he led his mind astray with that woman. What the hell? Gradually his terse daydream ceased, and the room housed his mind again. Still as stone he stood there.
The same paralyzing feeling reemerged. What's this? He peered again at the portrait. He had hoped the figure-the woman-would somehow magically reappear and bring an end to this illusion-this nonsense. Nothing again. Slowly, as if avoiding every bit of reality, he dragged his eyes down to the silver tag etched with the painting's descriptions.
Please make comments to me-whether they'd be on my writing style, text, improvements, etc. I need feedback on how I can make the story more appealing and/or "fun to read"?
With much gratitude,
sai wang
