AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The woman took out another pair from her bag and put them on her face.
She took another sip of her smoothie and made a sour face.
“Who the hell wants to drink this crap? Healthy or not. This is just terrible. I’d rather have a beer.”
“Want me to get you a beer?”
“That’s sweet of you, but no thanks. I’m Demi. Demi Issey.”
She offered an aged hand and I took it.
“Fiona,” I said.
“Fiona,” Demi said. “And I thought I had an old fashioned crappy name.”
I laughed. “Wow.”
“Oh, yeah. No filter here. The Parkinson’s took that.”
“I highly doubt that,” I said. “You’ve been this way your entire life.”
“Caught me,” she said. “Now. Are we walking?”
Demi and I walked two blocks to a small building with paintings in the front windows.
Demi’s name in letters above the door.
An actual art studio.
Her hand shook as she wrestled to get the key into the lock.
“Oh, goddammit,” she growled. “Can you unlock the door for me?”
“Sure,” I said.
I twisted the key, opened the door, and handed the keys back to Demi.
The smell of the place made me smile ear to ear.
A hint of fresh paper and canvas. The lingering smell of paint.
That gentle chemical smell.
The place felt so comfortable.
Easels everywhere.
Paintings everywhere.
“Where did these all come from?” I asked.
“Me,” Demi said.
I looked at her, surprised.
“Oh, wow,” she said. “Don’t hide the shock. The diseased old woman can paint, huh?”
“No… I didn’t…”
