From the shop window, it speaks to me: love and loss, beauty and despair, all caught on a single canvas.
A bell jangles as I walk in.
“How much for the painting in the window?” I ask.
The shopkeeper smiles. “It’s worth what every picture is worth.”
I hesitate, before nodding. It’s a small price to pay.
He raises his hands to my temples, taking the thousand with a touch.
When I get home, I hang the painting on the wall. So perfect, the way it captures… those feelings…
But I can’t name them. I no longer have the words.
From: 101 Fiction