Friday Fictioneers: His Painting

Photo prompt © Roger Bulltot


His Painting by Kelvin M. Knight

Craig took care setting up his easel; finding the correct spot to reveal this place was essential. Closing his eyes, he swayed. There was anger here, fear too, violence and suffering… so much inhumanity masquerading as humanity.

Grimacing, Craig splashed watercolours on and off the canvas, then lashed out with oils. Feeling empty, he squeezed out dollops of paste, formed pastel-coloured hills that his fingers glided down until he became one with the canvas revealing this place.

Teary-eyed, Craig stumbled backwards. Two words writhed amidst a multicoloured maelstrom, colours which were transforming into a sparkling web.

lonelineSs

heArs

(100 words)


Thank you to everyone for taking part this week (01/09/17), and reading each other’s stories, and liking, and commenting. You don’t have to be a Friday Fictioneer to read our stories so please don’t be shy, there’s a mix of styles and storylines all inspired by the same photo. To read other aspiring writers’ stories, click the Blue Frog.

Thanks, as ever, to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers so congenially.

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14 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers: His Painting

  1. Kelvin, you amaze me with the variety of stories you come up with for just one prompt. I believe you’ve deliberately crafted this one to leave it entirely up to each of us to interpret it as we will. . . as to the typography, if I picture words writhing on that sparkling web, it seems the size of the various letters changes with the movement, shifting like shadows. And what does loneliness hear but other loneliness?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This story intrigues me. I started with the naïve idea that the aura of the place was communicating in some way with Craig. Then I read the comments, where at least one person suggests that it is Craig’s need that he is expressing, and that seems very possible, more likely in fact than my first idea. Whatever, it’s a colourful piece that drew me in.
    The curious juxtaposition of web and loneliness attracted my attention, so I looked up “web of loneliness” on Google, and, lo and behold, there is such a thing! It’s an on-line group for lonely people, and, among other things it shares visual artworks.
    Your story is beautifully structured and paced, Kelvin. I think it’s really well done.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. He must have looked mad, arms flailing about on and off the canvas. If it helped to exorcise his demons, great.
    Like Neil, I wonder about the typography or if these two words just happened to appear during his fury, disregarding the how…

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Oh… oh… speechless… paint pours down my arms, covers my face broken only by the salty streaks rolling down my cheeks to drip off my jaw…. VERY VERY well done, Sir! Excellente! Bravissimo! I can almost picture the canvas, the maelstrom of emotions therein… Oh, durn, and I don’t have any paints handy… sh**!

    Liked by 2 people

  5. There’s a feel to this, and an idea. But I’m not entirely clear what’s happening in the ending. As I read it, the spirit of the place is communicating with him through the paint, I understood the lonliness (if not the typography) but not the hears

    Liked by 1 person

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