The Water Color Painting.

The noises all around were familiar, comforting. A light, jazzy song filled the area as  people sat at tables, discussing, revealing a little of bit of themselves to the ones across from them. The place was dim, as it usually was, and on each table was a flowery centerpiece. At a table not far from the center was a couple, innocent and unsuspecting like two children. He was looking at his glass, a bead of water that formed now ran down the side. She was holding her cup to her lips, but looking over its rim to look at him. And when he looked at her, she looked down.

Anyone looking would find their tense body language to be awkward. Every other couple in the room was relaxed, and seemed to flow with the music. When she set her cup down, he stood suddenly, his chair almost falling back. He smiled nervously, and brushed his pants with both legs. Then he offered the girl his hand; she glanced at it, then met his eyes with a smile. He led her to the dance floor, where only a few couples gathered to dance.

He laced his left hand with hers, and with his right, pulled her body closer. And even with such a bold move, he was extremely nervous. Her body was still tense, but with his sheepish smile, she seemed to relax a little. A nice night like this shouldn't be wasted with feeling worried. So they danced, in slow sweeping circles, careful not to step on the other's feet. After a while, they didn't need to pay so much attention as they fell into a common rhythm. The nervous couple became the watched couple, and soon became the couple everyone was envious of.


With his left hand, the artist wiped his forehead of the sweat, and with his right, adjusted his glasses. He scanned his canvas for any blank spots. Unbelievable, he thought. With a smile, and a shake of his head, he painted on two glass slippers for the girl at the center of the picture. Now, he thought, the water color painting is complete.