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The wordeverythingwas just that.
Everything.
A reminder that it wasn’t all that long ago I was busy rushing around an office, running up and down hallways, riding elevators, popping breath mints to chase away coffee breath, running scripts in my head to close a deal.
I was a different person then.
Then.
That made me smile.
Smile so much that I dipped my paintbrush into a light brown paint and wrote the wordTHEN.
A very sloppy cursive kind of writing, which was good.
The rest of the canvas stared back at me. White. Untouched.
Waiting.
I finally had the freedom to paint.
To just sit. Think. Paint.
I loved making my hair messy.
I loved wearing whatever clothing I could find.
Today?
One of Riff’s t-shirts.
There was absolutely nothingromanticabout it all.
I woke up in Riff’s bed and had the urge to paint.
I got out of bed and could not find my clothes within the first five seconds.
But I did find one of Riff’s t-shirts.
It was big, comfortable, and I didn’t mind the smell.
I was human after all.
The smell of a man.
Wearing his t-shirt.
It felt good.
I was taking full advantage of the moment handed to me.
I knew I could not sit around Riff’s condo and paint forever.
But for now?
It worked. It felt good.
I enjoyed it.
