The Painting

"Its interesting" I thought, brush in hand and staring blackly at the scene in front of me. "But its missing something" I looked back at the canvas. It was streaked with different marks of color, but nothing solid, or for that matter very beautiful. I just didn't seem to be able to spark those feelings that I needed. The landscape was pretty, bust slightly bland and uneventful. Just rolling hills and swaying grass. I closed my eyes and took a breath in trying to clear my head. The air was filled with various colors, purples, some blues and the occasional green, each was hinted with a very earthy tone of brown creating a bouquet in my mind. But even that lovely image did nothing. Opening my eyes I looked back at the scene, but it had changed. The colors seemed more vibrant, a little more alive, but the biggest change was directly in front of me. Looking off into the distance, her hair blowing in the quiet breeze. She wore a bright red dress, a belt around her middle the color of the sky at mid day and just stood there with her arms to her sides. I stared, wondering where she had come from, then suddenly she turned to go. I called out to her. She turned in surprise. "So sorry," she shouted over to me, it reached my ears and seemed to ring in them sending a thrill through my body. Turning she moved to get out of my line of sight "No," I shouted back. "you were perfect there, please if you would." I motioned for her to return to where she was. She obliged and stood back to where she was, staring again off in the distance. I worked quickly and did a ruff block in of what I saw. The brush seemed to gain a will of its own and stared to dance across the canvas. The ideas poured from my head and within minutes I was finished. I was completely engrossed in my work and hadn't looked up until I heard a soft voice from behind me. "Your quite good" There she stood, leaning forward to get a better view of the piece. She wore an expression of contentment. "Its not done yet" I stammered moving over to give her a better view. "Yes, but its still very good." I chuckled and said "Well it might not have been, I was stuck until you appeared, you seem to have become my muse." "That's not very polite" she quipped "seeing that I don't even know your name." "Lets just say that I am a man who's eye is always drawn to beauty. And you, if I may say so, are quite stunning." She blushed, but then, with a glint in her eye, she placed her hand on her hips "That's not an answer," "I know" I replied, grinning impishly. Then I stood up from my stool and faced her, her head followed me as I rose. Our eyes locked and the air seemed to electrify. Then without loosing that eye contact I said in a hushed tone. "Do you believe in fate?"