Thursday, March 25, 2010

Here goes another one...

He's only 17. He's only 17 and we just found out his dad is "living on borrowed time." I don't know where his mom is, if he ever knew her. I don't know. I paint their walls. Their living room looks like a tropical dream home - bamboo paneling on all four walls with "carvings" painted over doorways and onto "beams" and "posts." Two "windows" overlook a beach scene as plumeria bloom outside and spread their leaves into the room - so close to being finished. It's art. It's beautiful. Cheerful. I'm a faux painter. It's what I do.

...But the father is dying, and the son will be left alone.
What am I supposed to do with that?

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