Painting Screams

The moon blessed me with a variety of light, from big to minuscule rays, tonight's set-up. I lifted a canvas, about 24x24, to the easel that stood lonely in the middle of the table. Being a little obsessed with it being perfect I tried to center it. The canvas was off balanced no matter how hard I looked at it. I tapped it over many times in different directions. The smell of poppy seed wafted through my nose. Not until I started comparing it to mozzarella sticks did I remember that it cannot be smelled unless it was open. I snapped my head back only to meet with a set of kitten eyes. She was tiptoeing around the broken glass that the oil had been in. "Amaretsu." I chastised but a smile didn't abandon my face. She opened her mouth and let out a silent mew. She dashed to my ankles and curled around them with purrs loudly buzzing. Her golden tail swatted another case under the table and I felt liquid under my feet. "And there goes my thinner." The two spilt substances blended in front of me and I felt like strangling the little siamese at my feet. I swung my arm down--my hand cupped-- and scooped up the kitten into my palm. She meowed quietly and I held her by the rear to my chest. I put my free hand behind her neck and lulled her to sleep. I sat in a rocking chair and waited for dawn to come.

With every rock in the chair I thought how much of a shame it was that I couldn't start until I had a new oil and thinner. My paint brushes laid quietly like they were sleeping. The wind hushed and went to bed. The only thing awake in the world...was me. Its really easy to get bored when you never sleep. I'm envious of Amaretsu and the rest of the world for being able to sleep. I glanced at all the paintings in the room. Most of them are done at night with only the moon for light. Having on any light fixtures would run the bill to ungodly prices. All these painting supplies already burned a deep enough hole in my wallet. The paintings were mostly of the moon, Amaretsu, or random things in the room. I have no creativity what so ever but copying from real life is my specialty. I would like to try something new.

The rays of the moon disappeared sometime in my thinking stupor and I thanked the night for going fast. I slipped Amaretsu down into a plush chair for her to continue to sleep. She instinctively wrapped her body with her tail and tucked her legs under herself. I threw a blanket on top of her to shield her from the cold. I squirmed into the suit I had purchased last year for this exact purpose...


The word made me cringe but I thanked it for two reasons. One, it gave me something to do. Two, it paid the expenses when the paintings don't sell--which most of the time don't. I squeezed through the door so I didn't make it creak loudly. I shut it with extra care in which it only made a click instead of a bam. I slipped into my car and let it roar to life.


"SIMON!" The desk shook violently above me. I covered my head with my arm and shoved my face into my knees. It was dark so I did not know when my boss would find me. I was hoping not to be found like every other time but there is always a first. "SIMON!" There was a huff of defeat. "Simon you aren't in trouble so stop acting like a child." I told myself I couldn't hear her but something threw me off my mantra. The phone rang.

I spring from my position and flail my arm to get the to the phone. I brought it to my ear and had a notepad and pencil ready. "Uhh...mushi mushi?"

"Found you." The feminine voice blared in the ear piece. For the first time that I picked up the phone I looked up. My boss, a lady slightly shorter than me, stood head high with her left hand on her hip and her right by her ear was a tiny purple rectangle people would recognize as the company issued cell phone. I looked back to the notepad and spoke into the phone.

"I'm sorry but you'll have to call back later." I put the paper in the drawer and the pencil in its case. "Sorry for the inconvenience." I placed the phone down on the hook then shrunk down to my previous position. The overly-supreme boss lady flipped my desk forward, away from me.

"Siiiimoooon." She whined for the eighth thousandth time. I didn't move from my state until I felt yet another liquid seep into my pants. I dared to look by the puddle to conclude that when she flipped the desk she had spilled my soda.

"Bloody Hell." I muttered as I heaved myself to my feet. I brushed at the new stain in hopes it would just didn't. With a frown I looked to my boss. She stood proudly with her hands on her hips and a scowl pressed upon thy lips. Why art thou so faire? See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!. "Shut it Simon! You read Shakespeare too much." I whispered to myself. my boss stared at me with the unanswerable question of 'how can you possibly be this retarded?' look.

"Come to my office Simon." Miss mean-boss-lady demanded.

"No." I huffed with my arms across my chest. "People go in fine and come out crying." I stood there but her look penetrated my will power and reluctantly I followed with a below the breath 'yes Mam'.

I drug my feet on the floor in pursuit of my boss. She held the door open and I slugged in. The room was blank besides a few frames with pictures on the wall, a bookshelf, and a desk accompanied by a chair infront of it and one more comfortable looking one behind. The things on her desk laid askew and before I knew it I had started straightening everything. Her desk looked very professional when I got done with it. She came into the room and sat at her desk. She glared at my handiwork and moved it all again. I twitched and refused to listen to her words. I started to organize the buttons on my shirt so they were completely straightened down the middle of my chest.

"Simon!" My head jolted up and a button went flying across the room. I let out a string of curses under my breath then glared my most evil glare possible to the lady in front of me. "Will you please do this one little thing for me?" I let a blush run across my cheeks and sputtered a reply. Somehow I had agreed to doing something--

1)That I don't know exactly what

2)For a person I hate but writes my checks

3)For a person who just ruined my suit.

"Thank you! Thank you!" She scrambled for a pen and paper on her desk then with a few flicks of her wrist she had completed a long address and explanation. She pushed it into my arms with a bundle of money. Slowly I started wondering...what the hell have I gotten myself into?!