Colours

Short story

769

 

Nawroz Sinjari

 

I was not able to remove my gaze from the painting. I was staring at it for a long time, letting my soul be soaked by and lost in the colours and the shapes. My hands passed over the canvas gently, a movement in the manner of a brush stroke. I whispered to myself: “He is sharing his feelings and thoughts with every stroke of his brush. There is a secret behind every colour choice. There is a desire in the art. There is a creation of beauty. Therein concealed a man I dare to love, a man hiding behind his art, a man evoking an infinite degree of confusion as I try to decipher the meaning and message of this painting he dared to share with us mere ordinary humans”.  I talked hoping that he would feel my words. “Would you please let me be a part of this? Would you use my blood in your painting? Would you supplant the black in your painting for the darkness I harbour inside? Would you give me the honour of being part of this holy soul-like manifestation?”

I was amazed by how smoothly the pen danced when placed in his hand. With every move it made it was followed by special footprints, footprints that spawned magic. You might think that the pen is the only dancer on the blank paper, but it is accompanied with slender and swiftly-moving fingers. They all danced following the rhythm of the mind and the beats of the heart. It is an epic storytelling dance, ambiguous indeed but very captivating. He drew a sun, a light that allowed me to wonder. Is it to keep me warm or is it to burn my leftovers with its lengthy rays? He looked at me gently with his hazel-coloured eyes, swallowing my soul deep within them. He held my hand.

The drawing emerged from the paper and it became real. Sun-rays twisted around us; or were they exclusively around me? I wasn’t sure. It all happened very quickly. The sun started to burn me. It was too bright. There was nothing but me, the sun and its light.

Where did he go? When did he leave?

A storm arrived. A tornado appeared. They arrived too fast to avoid. They were too strong to battle. They sucked all the life from me. They took away everything.

All the warmth had waned. All the wind had ebbed. The sun was transformed into ice.

I became transparent, invisible!

All had become black…

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