Livelihood

December 9, 2018December 11, 2018Chel Owens

No passersby knew why he sat, in the sun, staring at nothing. A few threw coins or insults. One threw lunch, which he ate, staring as he chewed.

Night fell to all but the wall before him; the whiteness of antique, virgin brick burned into his mind. He paused to start a silent soundtrack. Nodding along to *bom!-bom!-bom!* he opened equally invisible paints.

Pain sprayed black in a wild arc, then red for beating love, then blue for days without the red; then green, grey, purple, orange –

Till, breathless, he stood staring at his soul upon the wall; satisfied.

For me, with the prompt provided by Carrot Ranch Literary Community.

D. Avery @shiftnshake December 11, 2018 / 7:05 pm

This is the tale of an artist. How about that last line?
A fine 99.

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- Chelsea Owens December 11, 2018 / 9:59 pm
  
  Thank you, D.
  A rhyme, you see,
  Beats the life we lead.
  
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  - D. Avery @shiftnshake December 11, 2018 / 11:23 pm
    
    There you go again. Good one.
    
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    - Chelsea Owens December 11, 2018 / 11:24 pm
      
      😀 I was following YOUR pattern.
      
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Charli Mills December 12, 2018 / 9:28 pm

Boom — that last line got me! Great pacing and rhythm, Chelsea.

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- Chelsea Owens December 12, 2018 / 9:56 pm
  
  Thank you, Charli!
  
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