I made it through the first elimination! There were a definite couple of runaway favorites but I did manage enough votes for my story ‘The Painter’ to move on to the next round. We’ve already received our next challenge and I’m pondering it…hopefully the muse will cooperate soon!
But, in case you missed the first round here’s my entry…
She watches my hands, always. Whenever I work I know I’ll find her near, peeking through the sweep of her hair, eyes tracking my movements. Lindsay was one of the first visitors to my studio; now the most frequent.The painting is near complete. I can feel her gaze on me as I add the smallest of final touches with small twists of my paintbrush. Never before has she stayed so long. I wonder if she realizes it’s her portrait. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers; she’s so close my heart lurches. When our gazes meet my stomach takes a lazy tumble. I realize for the first time she’s gold flecks in her ultramarine irises and there’s a splash of raw sienna freckles across the bridge of her nose. A scent, crisp and bright as cadmium yellow twists through the sharp bite of turpentine. Lips find lips; hands discover the shape of waist and hip. The hollow of her throat tastes of sweet sweat, her nipples tightening into peaks of Persian Red. Inch by inch I paint her body with my tongue just as I painted her image, filling my other senses with her. Her lust I taste and label as the rage of Scheveningen reds, my tongue delving, drinking, stroking. And when she twists her fingers into my hair, urgent, voice calling, I lose all thought of color, lost in the taste, the feel, the sound of her. My senses opened and caught, imagination ensnared.