Perhaps Tomorrow...

"PERHAPS TOMORROW..." the phone announced as I rose to silence my alarm. The bright red letters parading across my device informing me that my plans to paint in the public park should be postponed until tomorrow, maybe. What a bummer. I had been looking forward to attracting a small crowd to watch in awe as I guide my brush across a stretched canvas, slathering pigment around until it looks like something recognizable. Looking out the window it seems pleasant enough, inviting even, the sky is blue with just the right amount of happy fluff to the few clouds that are hanging around. I wouldn't dare go against those scrolling red words though. I've heard stories of those who have and it never ends in them getting another chance tomorrow.
Tomorrow could be my big day. Tomorrow I could paint a priceless masterpiece, and gift someone with the opportunity to say they watched me paint that. I just need to wait. Although, I wouldn't consider myself to be a good artist. No, for me, it's all about the reaction. I like to get all set up with my paints out ready to mix into whatever shade I choose, my easel standing and my canvas in place. Even if only one or two people stop, that is all I need to feel like what I'm doing is worth it. Every so often though, I come up with something grand, so grand that I surprise even myself. Probably not today though. Most of the time I'll roll a joint to smoke while I paint and that really adds to the thrill and artistic value. Today I'll roll a joint and think about painting outside.
The first time I had the chance to paint publicly I had chosen to paint my rendition of the female genitalia. It wasn't in an attempt to gather a crowd, I just wanted to smoke outside and enjoy myself while painting a priceless vagina. As people gathered around me asking me what it was I was creating and gawking at my masterpiece in the works, I began telling them that it was a flower as I continued to puff away and smear pigments. The end result was clearly a vagina, but with a few suggestions that it may be a flower, the small crowd that had gathered began to convince themselves that they saw the flower I mentioned. I desperately yearned for this feeling of power again. To create an artistic illusion and watch as the onlookers try to decide for themselves if my creation is what I say or maybe something different.
For now, I'll carry on through my day, living and being human inside of my house, like most days, I think. If I even take a step towards my door the phone reminds me that perhaps tomorrow would be best for creating new artwork in the park. Come to think of it, I can't even remember the last time I had a chance to open my front door and get a fresh whiff of air. The weather outside always seems so welcoming but any attempt at finding out for myself gives me the alert that perhaps tomorrow will be a better time. Who decides these things? I certainly don't but I would love to feel the gentle breeze that's flowing through the trees. Wait.. was that a flicker? No way... maybe an animal quickly passing by? or something falling onto my porch. I certainly did not see anything other than maybe a flicker but how could that be. I'm sure it's just me blinking, man this is some strong weed. I must be stoned already. I'd open the window but I'm told the previous renter nailed them shut for some reason. I'll just go open the door and take a look, myself. I won't leave the house, I'll just check my porch.

Beep..beep..beep... I groggily reach for my phone to silence my alarm and begin preparing myself for my big day in the park when I'm suddenly informed that today is not a good day to go to the park but my phone says, "PERHAPS TOMORROW..."