“Close your eyes and don’t look until I tell you!” Matt was leading me by the hand into his work room. He was excited about what he was about to show me.
“There. You can look now,” he said.
He had been working on this for weeks shut in his work room and coming out only to eat and sleep. In his manic excitement the past few days he had done very little of either.
And there it was. It was huge. A seascape in grays and blues and greens. He was looking at my face, waiting for me to say something.
I found my voice and said. “This is really good, Matt. It’s the best thing you’ve ever done.”
He beamed with the praise. “I wanted you to be here when I sign it.” He dipped a brush into the black paint and lettered Matthew Good in the corner. He tossed the brush aside and stood back admiring his work. I had to admire it too. The detail so carefully added. Shells on the sand and foam on the waves.
Then I saw it. In the lower right hand corner was some driftwood and something --
Looking closer I saw it was a hand out stretched from behind the tangled seaweed There was a dark outline of a body on the sand.
Matt was sitting on the chair by his table. His manic energy that had created this thing was spent. He sat with his head bowed, eyes focused on nothing, “Who is that, Matt?”
“Can’t you tell? It’s me.”
© Copyright 2009 Doremi (UN: nicegrandma777 at Writing.Com).
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