9 Khalid

9

Khalid

I watched Valeria turn around, her hands brushing the empty oak wood table. I told her where all the paint tubes and brushes were kept with large bottles of paint placed in the shelf at the corner of the room. I had decorated the walls with some of my smaller paintings, stacks of panels and canvases stored at the back of the studio. Faint scent of the paint thinner and oil lingered in the air.

Her hand touched the large pillars on our left with heavy doors open. The view was nothing but endless sand dunes. I remembered sitting there at night and staring at the sky.

“It feels different in this room,” Valeria muttered.

I walked beside her, warning her about the chaise lounge before she could stumble into it. The end of her cane gently tapping against it.

It was navy blue in color, looking black in certain lighting. The arms of chaise were intricate in gold, making it look elegant. It was the only piece of furniture which stood out the most in my art studio.

I never painted