Painter

It’s February 4

I have been living here since July… here? Yes.. second floor, Number 14, The Pilgrm Hotel, London St. nearby Norfolk Park.

Sitting near the window on the occasional chair perfectly made from wood, with a leather seat back. Room has light creme walls, big white windows.

Marshall’s speaker is playing my favourite music from a playlist.. Always the particular song at the same time… Convenient environment… Can’t complain…

On the outside of my door I hung up “don’t disturb” …

It’s morning, common cloudy day… drizzling…

Almost 11 o’clock …

I touch the rounded finishes of the radiator with one hand and with the other the transparent glass of tea… looking out of the window holding my breath… a few seconds left…

Now it’s eleven… 🕰

The maroon colour door of the building across the street opens…

For a few seconds the clouds move away from the sun…

She appears…

The rhythm of music changes immediately… as well as my heartbeat…

I don’t know her but I know her name is Lily…

I have never been near her however I smell her fragrance…

I have never kissed her but I know the taste of her lips…

I have never spoken with her however I hear voice of her smile…

I only have 15 seconds to watch her but the image of her stays in my eyes…

Sometimes she appears with a purple dress…

Sometimes with big Prada sunglasses…

Sometimes with a long grey coat and a white scarf..

Her every movement, every step she takes is a movie…

Every shape of her body in the street is a piece of art…

And music plays in the room… harder than never…

Yes…

You got it… I am painter…

Ah…

Can you change my day in the same way?