Painting Memories of Love

Water splashed all over the yard, not too heavy indeed, but the breeze was enough to make some people think twice to go outside. The gilded golden light on the western edge was dimly cloudy over this afternoon.

Occasionally seen lightning, grabbed like a burning fire that is ready to raid the sky. It was a very quiet day, only the moaning of the rain that was heard by this tiny ear. Maybe some people think just drinking coffee while watching television is the right thing to fill this void.

But not for a middle-aged man who had been sitting quietly pensively. In front of the white canvas he complained. His right hand clutches the brush tightly. Occasionally he coughed. Her hair that begins to whiten not infrequently he scratched and tired as he pleased.

The brush is now moving forward, looking doubtful and looking a bit shaky. Her eyes were teary. I wonder what is going through his mind now. Coldness is just like an anomaly that makes him nervous sweating. Suddenly there was a shout. The brush was thrown away.

While the master screamed in earnest. The inner turmoil arose from the look on his face.

"Is not that what you promised?" Asked the long-haired girl full of sobs. "But all that changed, I can not keep hanging like this," the light guy next to him later. "You say love should be fought for. You must be more patient. Maybe my father just needs time.

"" Never mind, I think our relationship is over. Take care of yourself, "said the guy as he left. "But you, you can forget all the memories so far," now crying more broken, while the guy was ignored and still choose to leave. Since then this place has been a witness. Unexpectedly, the meeting place they once loved was leaving bitter memories.

Occasionally the girl returns. Waiting for uncertain love. But only the longing that comes and covers the emptiness. - The man got up. His emotions began to subside as the rain gradually stopped wetting the earth. He picked up the brush firmly. Now his eyes firmly stared at the empty canvas and began painting.

The brush started dancing, scribbling around. Visible smooth strokes that gradually change clearly. The painting began to tell. Displays dream testimony.

Dreams that never come true. When the hand stops, the painting stands alone while the engraver leaves. The painting seemed to testify. Reveals a mystery that never goes away. Maybe he could go. But not with love. Love has and never eaten the day.