He was always telling her she is beautiful.
She sighs and wishes she can go out and feel the sun on her skin.
She feels like a cocooned ball, swallowed white in self pity and depression.
One day, she takes out his unopened birthday gift: a brush, oils of paint and canvas.
She reads his note once more:
You are beautiful.
You are beautiful.
She looks at canvas with sadness and begins painting.
First, with anger and sorrow, then with acceptance and hope.
Her canvas bursts with tears and passion in all the colours of life.
When the doctors came to take off the bandages, she didn't feel fear nor
apprehension. She touches the scars from the car accident, her memories
of that night stinging her eyes.
apprehension. She touches the scars from the car accident, her memories
of that night stinging her eyes.
Holding the mirror to see her face at last, she sees what he has been saying all the time.
After all, his heart beats in her core.
After all, his heart beats in her core.
Author's Note: Posted for The Mag 110 - I am trying my hand in micro fiction writing and have altered the picture a bit. Shared with Poets United.
Thanks for the visit.