Pieces Of My Heart (Art)
#WritcoStoryChallenge
The painting was yellowed with rounded edges. It was a masterpiece and it was lying in my hand. Wait, have I stolen it? I don't remember...
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copyright © 2020. a_adewumi. All Rights Reserved.
I looked around my small bedroom, void of any furniture except the bed pushed to the corner and wardrobe blocking the window. Two cats lazily stretched on the floor, quietly walking around the room till they were out of sight.
I raked my hand through my short spiky brown hair, framing my head but too short to surpass my neck. A yawn escaped my lips as I stretched, blanket pooling at my waist as I looked around again with sleepy eyes.
I slipped from the bed, soft slippers placed beside my bed as I slipped into them; mewling at the soft fur caressing my heels and underside of my feet.
I walked directly to the kitchen, heading starught for the landline to check for any recorded voicemail, preferably from my ex boyfriend or the new job application I applied for Twp nights ago. Obviously they hadn't contacted me for a reason; I wasn't fit enough, but I could hope even without an evident chance.
I worked as an Interior Designer for five years before I moved from Dallas to California, tailing my ex boyfriend like a desperate puppy. We were in love, planning to get married after settling in, but now it's just a fairytale.
A painting caught my eye, stopping me dead on my tracks. Stemina, the black cat with lemon green eyes was curled around a painting of a couple, basking under a realistic sunset. I gasped, fear settling deep in my guts. I shooed the cat away from the painting, sighing in irritation when it meowed in defiance. It curled itself more, head resting on its fur until I moved it out of the way with a bowl of cat food sitting in the kitchen center.
Holding it in my soft fingers, I was afraid it would slip and fall. "I didn't buy a painting last night, or did I?" I murmmed.
I jumped startled when the phone rang, a deep vibration in the once quiet room, save for the occasional chat noises. I tucked the painting under my armpit, hesitant to pick the phone. For all I know, it could be the owner of the painting asking for money I didn't have to pay for a painting I didn't know about.
A low buzz echoed in the kitchen from the phone hanging on the wall, a clear tone of an incoming voicemail. I took a...
The painting was yellowed with rounded edges. It was a masterpiece and it was lying in my hand. Wait, have I stolen it? I don't remember...
-----
copyright © 2020. a_adewumi. All Rights Reserved.
I looked around my small bedroom, void of any furniture except the bed pushed to the corner and wardrobe blocking the window. Two cats lazily stretched on the floor, quietly walking around the room till they were out of sight.
I raked my hand through my short spiky brown hair, framing my head but too short to surpass my neck. A yawn escaped my lips as I stretched, blanket pooling at my waist as I looked around again with sleepy eyes.
I slipped from the bed, soft slippers placed beside my bed as I slipped into them; mewling at the soft fur caressing my heels and underside of my feet.
I walked directly to the kitchen, heading starught for the landline to check for any recorded voicemail, preferably from my ex boyfriend or the new job application I applied for Twp nights ago. Obviously they hadn't contacted me for a reason; I wasn't fit enough, but I could hope even without an evident chance.
I worked as an Interior Designer for five years before I moved from Dallas to California, tailing my ex boyfriend like a desperate puppy. We were in love, planning to get married after settling in, but now it's just a fairytale.
A painting caught my eye, stopping me dead on my tracks. Stemina, the black cat with lemon green eyes was curled around a painting of a couple, basking under a realistic sunset. I gasped, fear settling deep in my guts. I shooed the cat away from the painting, sighing in irritation when it meowed in defiance. It curled itself more, head resting on its fur until I moved it out of the way with a bowl of cat food sitting in the kitchen center.
Holding it in my soft fingers, I was afraid it would slip and fall. "I didn't buy a painting last night, or did I?" I murmmed.
I jumped startled when the phone rang, a deep vibration in the once quiet room, save for the occasional chat noises. I tucked the painting under my armpit, hesitant to pick the phone. For all I know, it could be the owner of the painting asking for money I didn't have to pay for a painting I didn't know about.
A low buzz echoed in the kitchen from the phone hanging on the wall, a clear tone of an incoming voicemail. I took a...