Thursday Tiny Tale 6

Since this is only Tiny Tale 6 it would be safe to say I’ve slacked off on writing tales to share my abilities. The only reason I didn’t write as many tales as I should have was because I was being lazy. (There was also a part of me that worried I wouldn’t be able to focus on the bigger story for my novel, but that was just a pretty cheap excuse). If I want others to some day find the urge to look into my finished novels, then it only makes sense to share my abilities. These are tiny tales anyway. It’s not as if I need to dedicate all my time to finish them. Let’s get on with the show and see what idea pops into my head today!


A Mess of Feelings

I could only glare at the painting in front of me as I sat in the empty classroom. It was a rare moment for the art studio to be so quiet in the middle of the day. Most of the time, there were at least two or three students sitting at their canvas boards waiting for their ideas to come to life. It was even more rare for the professor to not be sitting at his desk creating a new ink masterpiece. These days, the older man seemed to enjoy relaxing more than taking on new pieces of work, but he still held a talent like no other. His creative mind would know exactly what my painting needed to be completed.

A knock sounded at the doorway to signal someone’s need for my attention. I turned around in confusion because it was rare for anyone to knock before they entered a classroom. When I met Chris Little’s smiling face I couldn’t help but return a smile. He was one of the few people who knew to never approach me when I was working on a painting. It only took one accidental slap with a paint brush for him to learn his lesson.

“Hey,” I grumbled shortly after the smile fell from my face. His eyebrow popped up slightly and a smirk quickly followed. It was easy to see he knew I was stuck with my latest creation and the chances were high he would try to help me solve my problem. Everyone has one person able to make things click simply by being there. Chris was my one person.

“Today we see Miss Tammy Brings taking on her latest challenge. If we approach quietly, we might be able to catch a rare opportunity to see her creation before anyone else,” he said in a funny tone. He approached me slowly as if I was an animal in the wild easily frightened by human contact. I smirked as he continued to approach me. His eyes glanced towards my painting and then back to where I sat before the image. Something was beginning to piece together in his brain. The boy was smart and could solve math like the answers were written on the back of his hand. But his logical mind more often than not prevented him from being able to make art happen as easily as I found the ability. But I still accepted his limitation with a paintbrush just as he excepted my limits with calculations.

“It’s missing something,” I said and looked to the canvas holding his attention. I had triangles pieced together all across the board. The sizes of the triangles were random along with the different shades of blue. Some were light while some carried a bit of darkness. The image carried volume but it lacked any sign of heart. I needed to put together something more to bring the image to its final stage. “I feel happy and calm when I look at the different levels of blue, but something doesn’t feel right.”

“Happy and calm?” Chris asked with a confused look on his face. He scratched his chin and looked from my face towards the painting. I did my best to ignore whatever puzzle he was trying to piece together because obviously we were on different pages. He then bent forward to grab my knees and turned my entire being in my seat to face him directly. Instantly, a laugh erupted from his mouth.

“What?!” I asked and felt my face warm with embarrassment to his reaction.

“How the hell did you get red on your face when all you’ve been working with is blue?” he asked and ran a finger against a spot of paint on my face. He revealed the red on his own finger and I coudln’t help but let a small chuckle escape.

“I was going to originally make the triangles red, but blue seemed more like my color today,” I said and shrugged. Before I could turn back to face my painting, Chris took my hands to hold me in place. I could see something building up in his eyes.

“Blue is always your color, Tammy,” he said and then crouched down so our faces were level. “In fact, it’s the color I have been trying to kick out of your life for, what? Three years now?”

Suddenly, our conversation about art was taking on a whole knew journey. A journey much brighter than my dark eyes could see. My heart began to pound as I reached up to my face where the red paint still colored my cheek. I removed a small amount with my own finger and moved quickly to bop him slightly on the nose. Before he could react I jumped to my feet and ran over to fill my palet with some red paint. As I ran around to gather all the shades my heart desired, Chris leaned back with a smirk to watch me work. It was as if I was some entertainer putting on a show for a solo audience.

I ran to my painting with my many shades of red and looked to Chris with a smirk to match his own. Then I loaded up a large paintbrush with the lightest of the reds and began the prosesss of bringing happiness to my sober blues. The splashes were randomly thrown across the triangles in many shades. Darks and lights began to build up on the blues as if they were trying to take over. But I didn’t want the red to cover up the blue beauty. I only wanted the red to be included. When the splashes were done I took a step back with a couple of quick breaths. The passion shared in only a few minutes of the work began to overtake my entire being. If I didn’t release the tension inside, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. The easiest way to release everything was only a step away.

When my lips crashed into Chris’s mouth I caused him to stumble back where he stood. He didn’t fall and responded first with shock, then a bit of laughter, and finally joining in the kiss. When the kiss ended I felt my cheeks redden once again and buried my face into his chest. This kind of thing only happened in movies or goofy romance novels. It wasn’t possible I was taking on such a foolish action with my best friend. A cough sounded in the distance and I knew the only owner of such a sound was the professor I thought wasn’t around. I pulled away slowly from Chris’s arms and met Mr. Spincer’s eyes. He shook his head then glanced towards the blue and red painting I was ready to call complete.

“I don’t mind you looking to outsiders for inspiration, but as a professor I know there is a time an a place for such inspiration to occur,” he said and waved to where we stood wrapped in each other’s arms. “I’m going to step away now and let you two clean up those messy feelings.”

Mr. Spincer stepped out of the room as we looked to my canvas board to take in my finished piece. Splashes of red paint covered the blue triangles and a few splashes made it to the white tiled floor. I let out a slow sigh as Chris took my hand. I couldn’t believe how big of a mess my feelings had created. I obviously ignored them for far too long.

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