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Painter With Words
10 months ago
General
You were going for a walk. Maybe something troubled you, given the shuffle of your steps and the down-turned gaze. You looked like you could use the fresh air, and it was the perfect weather. Nice and cold... Breezy. The wind nipped at your face. It didn't seem to bother you at all, you had on a sweater and some jogging pants. Yet I saw you rub your cheek. Hard to tell if it was the chill or a tear down your eye. Too bad.
'Too bad.' No, that wasn't the way to put it. I ought to hold myself to a higher caliber, here. Use a finer brush.
The way your hands were tucked into your hoodie, how you didn't even care to crease your new sneakers... You were empty. Morose. Crestfallen. You looked as crushed as the bug you stepped on, but you didn't notice that.
And just like that bug, you crawled in a world that is far beyond your understanding.
I did notice, however.
But like any painting, the composition is key. I didn't like how fast you started to move, it almost looked like you noticed me. So I slowed you to a crawl. Then I froze this moment in time.
I crystallized it.
Now you look clear as day.
I didn't like the way your hoodie clashed with your sweats. What, did you get dressed in a hurry? No, no, no, that wouldn't do. I took the color out of the scene. It evaporated like smoke, and like smoke, only ash was left behind. The whole scene is gray now... You are gray, and I think that suits you.
I felt like I ought to go for a more timeless quality, you know? Speak to the human condition, a universal experience. I thought you ought to represent everyone, so I made you represent no one. I took your face.
The details elude me. There's only gray now, shadowed by the hoodie.
And you looked so cold, you know. Frozen in time. So I did you a favor. You continued to stare at your hand, right beside your face, forever. But at least you'll be a bit warmer. You have gloves on. Always did.
This was a bit inspired by a thing I read by
junkpaw the other day. Their story was one from the POV of the ‘pred’ so I wanted to try it here. Check out their writing, I liked their horror prompts!
'Too bad.' No, that wasn't the way to put it. I ought to hold myself to a higher caliber, here. Use a finer brush.
The way your hands were tucked into your hoodie, how you didn't even care to crease your new sneakers... You were empty. Morose. Crestfallen. You looked as crushed as the bug you stepped on, but you didn't notice that.
And just like that bug, you crawled in a world that is far beyond your understanding.
I did notice, however.
But like any painting, the composition is key. I didn't like how fast you started to move, it almost looked like you noticed me. So I slowed you to a crawl. Then I froze this moment in time.
I crystallized it.
Now you look clear as day.
I didn't like the way your hoodie clashed with your sweats. What, did you get dressed in a hurry? No, no, no, that wouldn't do. I took the color out of the scene. It evaporated like smoke, and like smoke, only ash was left behind. The whole scene is gray now... You are gray, and I think that suits you.
I felt like I ought to go for a more timeless quality, you know? Speak to the human condition, a universal experience. I thought you ought to represent everyone, so I made you represent no one. I took your face.
The details elude me. There's only gray now, shadowed by the hoodie.
And you looked so cold, you know. Frozen in time. So I did you a favor. You continued to stare at your hand, right beside your face, forever. But at least you'll be a bit warmer. You have gloves on. Always did.
This was a bit inspired by a thing I read by
junkpaw the other day. Their story was one from the POV of the ‘pred’ so I wanted to try it here. Check out their writing, I liked their horror prompts!