I was.

I was not short, I was not tall.

I was not big, I was not small.

I was not fast, I was not slow.

I was not deep, I was not shallow.

I was not young, I was not old.

I was not cowardly, I was not bold.

I just was.

As I existed, so did others.

I had parents, siblings, friends.

 

And I wasn't a poet so there was that. Instead of poetry I did art.

And a piece of Art is what allowed me to meet … someone.

I was hard at work. Painting another landscape for one of my regulars. Back then I didn't think I'd ever be able to visit the places in my paintingd. But I sure as hell wished I could. Just once. That would have been enough for me. But well, following principles came at a price. I had made a choice, artistic freedom and poverty, instead of drawing pornographic material and living in relative comfort. And the price I paid was that I'd likely never be able to visit such places.

The painting was almost finished. Background light blue. Sun yellowish white. Clouds white. Ocean dark blue. Beach, yellow and white and brown. A few palm trees, brown and green. The waves, dark base and white foam. Dark shadows. Highlights.

“Now just a few finishing touches, and I can call Tom.”

Nobody else was in the room, I was just talking to the painting.

The painting did not respond.

That had only happened once. I was still young, took a pill offered by a friend and had a looooong conversation with three ducks, imprisoned in a frame.

They had been eloquent beyond belief, telling me more about biology than I had ever learned in school. Or that is how it felt. I did of course know that something like thid was impossible. Hallucinatikn could't possibly tell you anything you didn't know before.

Remembering this, I decided to add some animals to the picture, but that would have to wait. The day's work had to be concluded, I was simply too tired.

I threw my clothes to the ground and went to the bathtub for my weekly bath. One of the few luxuries I was able to allow myself.

I lay down in the tub and opened the faucet. As the warm water started encasing my body all my worries fell from my mind. Pure bliss.

As the tub filled up my tiredness won over and I barely managed to close the faucet before falling asleep in the porcelain tub. It was not the first time I fell asleep while taking a bath. And it wouldn't be the last.

When I woke up, the water was already cold. It was the middle of the night by then. Without putting on clothes, without taking a meal, and without even drying myself, I went straight back to painting.

After adding some tiny fish, seashells, seaweed and a few seagulls, I went to take a small breakfast and finally remembered to brush my teeth.

Having taken a break like this, I put on some clothes, changed some minute details and called the painting done.

 

Since it was too early to call Tom, I decided to go for a walk. I could and maybe shoild have gone back to sleep, but despite only having had a few hours of sleep, I was't the slightest bit tired. The excitement of a finished painting was too great.

The sun had not yet fully risen, and the streets were almost completely devoid of life. The few people I saw were mostly youngsters returning from a night of partying.

Those shared the street with rodents concluding their night’s activity. Were those creatures rodents? No idea, let's just pretend they were.

I did not envy the kids and the headaches they'd have to endure. Remembering all too vividly my past escapades … and those talking ducks.

After a few minutes of walking like this I reached the edge of town, and decided to take a stroll through the adjacent woods.

At this time of day, the woods were more active than town. A lot of joggers were running on the dirt roads. One of the few improvements the previous major had been able to make.

Feeling the rising sun, even under the thick canopy of trees, I heard, smelt, and felt the awakening of a nice hot summer day.

I enjoyed the relative calm of the woods for multiple hours, before returning home. As I exited the woods I called Tom.

“Boulder! With whom do i have the pleasure?” I could only shake my head at Tom's usual greeting. He knew exactly who called him at any moment. But as always I played along.

“Hi, Tom. This is Amelie, I got your beach scenery finished.”

“Perfect timing, you should come to this evening’s party. I would have invited you sooner, but I know you don’t like to be interrupted while painting.”

“How very thoughtful of you, of course I will gladly accept. And you are well aware that I have my reasons. Getting interrupted during my painting process will result in horror.”

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself, it is art.”

“If you like it that much, you can try interrupting me next time I paint for you.”

“I value my head being on top of my shoulders, thank you.”

We had a good laugh.

“Ok, see you this evening. Seven o’clock. Put on one of your fine dresses. I would recommend the black one.”

“Both of my ‘fine’ dresses are black.”

“I know ... byeeee.”

Without waiting for a reaction, Tom hung up.

With a sigh I made my way home.

I enjoyed my few remaining hours of relative peace with a nap and a light lunch. I then started preparations for the party.

My attendance would be noticed by only a few. Some of which would claim to like the various paintings I had made for Tom but few would actually be willing to make business with me.

Which made these parties a tedious affair.

But hey, some were better than none, and I was always grateful that these torture-events had some kind of boon at least.

Oh, how I hated these high society parties.

On top of the stress I also always felt out of place.

But what was I supposed to do? Not go? Risk angering one of my most lucrative patrons? No, I would have to suck it up!

Maybe I'll even be able to sell a big piece this time around. Making this event worth my while.

Or maybe this would turn out to be one of the few, extremely rare, parties where I actually had fun.

 

I took a quick shower, did my hair and applied some light makeup. Then I almost blindly picked one of the two dresses.

Then came the time to leave. I put the painting into a protective casing. An aluminum tube this time.

I would have liked to pick a frame, but since I wasn't told where Tom wanted to put the painting I wasn't able to choose a fitting one yet. Well at least transportation would be easier this way.

The way to his mansion was mostly uneventful. Just teo hours of constant walking. No, I was not wearing high heels. I wasn't mad or desperate enough for this kind of torture.

When I arrived at the giant building in the middle of town, which Tom called his home, the usual noise of partying was missing.

I checked my phone, but it was already ten past seven. I was definitely not too early so I approached the house and rung the bell.

Tom answered in a casual suits. A bordeau one this time around. Despite being clearly casual the suit was a bit more formal than his usual attire.

"Hi! Where is the party? I dont hear anyone." I was extremely confused but I still spoke with my usual friendly and maybe a tad too sweetened tone.

"Come on in. It is not a party per se … more a small get together of close friends. My close friends. Among which I consider you."

"Oha?" my initial confusion got replaced by another kind of confusion and a strange sense of shy embarrassment.

I had no reason to dislike Tom but I also didn't see him often enough to consider him a close friend. To top it off I wondered if I had anything in common with any of Tom's other close friends. I never seemed to fit in at his parties

Such worries plagued my mind as I was led to a small room. There I saw five people around a table. None of which I remembered from any of the actual parties.

"This is my good friend Amelie, I told you about," not getting the desired effect with this introduction Tom continued "The painter!"

Realisation dawned as memories surfaced among the collected faces.

Those expressions of realisation made me realise that Tom had already planned to introduce me to these people as not one of them showed hostility or contempt for me or my profession. Only goodwill and happiness could be read from these faces, which represented Tom's friends.

"And those are Caty, Fred, Matt, Silvy and my almost fiance Steff."

The last part elicited a chuckle from the five, marking it as an obvious joke. Which made sense as Tom wasn't interested in relationships that lasted longer than a night. And even when he engaged in these kinds of activities the other person had never been a woman. At least not to my knowledge.

My attention lingered on Steff, the target of the joke. A beautiful lady in a nice red blouse and a fitting pair of high-quality red trousers. The skintight getup was accentuated with red earrings and red rings.

I was simply mesmerised by this sight.

I didn't realise that I was staaring at the woman until she spoke up.

"Don't ruin my advances on your painter-friend with such crude lies."

The woman could barely keep a straight face. The others laughed. I turned red as a beet.

"Look at what you've done. You made my dear friend Amelie all embarassed and shy. How do you plan to take responsibility?"

"With great effort and my natural charm," Steff flashed Tom an evil smile then turned her head and showed me a genuine one.  A more seductive one I'd never seen before. "After all this red face fits perfectly well with my evening attire"

If the other four reacted I failed to notice. My mind was occupied by the beautiful lady.

That was the case for the rest of the evening. Aside from my mind she also kept my mouth busy. At first only with words.

When I woke up the next day I indistinctly remembered that Tom and his friends played some kind of board game. They might have had wine and snacks, I wasn't sure. But I vividly remembered that neither Steff nor I took part in that game.

I didn't even remember the names of those other four.

All that had mattered for me that evening was my talk with Steff. Well after a few hours our mouths were occupied otherwise, so talking wasn't really an option anymore.

I didn't wake up in my own bed. I lay in one of the rooms belonging to Tom's mansion.

Apparently Steff didn't live in town, so she stayed the night at Tom's place. And since we shared a bed this night I was lying besides Steff in her allocated room.

She was still asleep beside me. And I feared she would not want to meet me a second time. So I enjoyed her warmth for as long as I could and didn't dare stand up. I just held her in my arms and was happy.

After a few minutes my happiness was disturbed, Steff woke up.

Contrary to my expectation she immediately went on to occupy my mouth again. We skipped the words this time around.

After a few minutes we continued where we left off before sleep … and did nothing else for hours on end.

"How about you come visit my place for a few weeks."

Her suggestion took me by surprise. Although I enjoyed her presence and she seemed to enjoy mine I was still filled with this unreasonable fear she'd only see me as a disposable partner.

"I'd love to ...  it's just I don't know how to get to and from that place."

"No problem. You can come with me," she began to laugh. "Don't worry, I am not planning on abducting you."

Before I could answer our lips were interlocked once more.

After another round of great fun I ended up agreeing to her proposal.

After a luxurious breakfast Tom prepared for us we stopped by my appartment to pack some clothes, painting material, and other neccessities.

I was way too nervous to talk during the trip. Steff realised this pretty quickly so she just put on some music and drove in silence.

To me it seemed as if she was extra careful, but maybe she was just such a smooth driver. For all I knew it could have been the vehicle, but I prefered the idea that it was her doing.

Busying myself with these kinds of thoughts I barely noticed our arrival.

I could barely believe my eyes. We were standing at the beach, and aside from one house there wasn't any building in sight. The street … there was no street, just a dirt track.

How had I not noticed the low quality of the road? Steff must have really used all her skills to make the trip as pleasant as possible.

The path ended in a garage. The gate stood open. The vehicle stood outside, we hadn't yet entered the building.

I looked to my left and saw her grinning at me.

After a short kiss she spoke up. "Welcome to my home, sweet Amelie."

My cheeks burned red with a nervous shyness. So in a bit to distract myself I continued to look around.

Where in front of me was the house with the beach to its right and left. Behind me there was a forest. To the far right I could see the beach give way for the forest to meet the sea. On the other hand to my left the forest thinned and I could see a bit of farmland through the trees.

"What is this place?"

"Oh, don't worry you will get used to it," with a soft giggle Steff gave me pause and drove the vehicle into the garage.

"I hope not, this place is breathtakingly beautiful," I feared getting used to such a sight. For it would lower my quality of life once I was inadvertendly made to go back home.

After a few weeks of pure heaven I began to dread the moment I'd have to return to my own home. Against my better judgement I got used to this place. A place nobody ever visited. Well a few people still did visit. But aside from Tom and the ones I met at his party the occasions were few and far between. It was a place I could paint in utter silence or should I wish to I could instead take my supplies and paint accompanied by the sounds of the sea or the forest. A place with the woman I loved.

Now it's almost been three years since I arrived here. I was never made to leave but I still kept my appartment in town. Now, with the preparations for the wedding in full swing the time is near where I won't have a lot of excuses left to keep it.

Until now I could still argue that I'd need it should Steff ever grow tired of me. Once we are wive and wive she won't accept that reasoning anymore.