The Wizard from The Sun (Pt. I)

         Room three-twenty, a vacant space that I used to call home. Plain walls, wooden floor, one measly window; all the hallmarks of a safe place. Then again, I couldn't have asked for anywhere better to conduct my business. At the very least it had a huge amount of privacy, as it was the only room that nobody bothered to check on even after I moved in, giving me an advantage when it came to my work. After all, I wouldn't have too many onlookers to shoo away while splattering colors on to a blank canvas.

         Just to get away from everyone; that's all I really wanted; the ability to secretly view every one of them burning away was another thing. With vivid reds and bright oranges, they'd all feel the same way I do, metaphorically speaking of course. Either way, the house I previously stood at had far more than I bargained for, and ultimately I was asked to leave by the couple I was staying with. Me and children honestly don't mix very well, and one thing lead to another. On one hand I feel incredibly guilty for what I did, yet on the other I do think they deserved it; even just a little bit.

         Still, at least I left with a little something to my name. After that, I went to that sanctuary of a room and continued to mindlessly strike my brush at nothing. It was decent living there; I'd get free food and wouldn't have to worry about rent or anything. I also had a pretty good view of the street outside, which inspired a few works I made of the people who captured my interest. For months on end that was all I did; eat, paint, sleep; rinse and repeat.

         I'm still surprised nobody noticed some creep staring at them, but what do I know about people. Everybody's busy in their own way, me included, so I guess they'd focus less on said freak and more on their apparent lives. Actually, would you even want to know if somebody's staring at you ? I'd imagine it'd make most people uncomfortable, but again, what do I know ? Nothing I tell you.

         Regardless, everything was going fine, or at least that was until I received a knock at my door. Keep in mind, room three-twenty was practically below the apartment's main stairwell, and passed itself off as a supply room. So, I was obviously a little curious as to why someone would bother coming to the door. I forced my body up from the floor and staggered towards the unknown knocker. My hand trembled as I slowly unwinded and turned the doorknob.

         " Yes ?" I whispered as my eyes made out a hairy, disembodied arm. "Umm, hi ?" a deep voice quietly responded " Wow, I didn't know anybody still used this room.". The tension in my body eased away as I steadily swung open the door. In front of me stood a real giant of a man; clad in a leather jacket, jeans, and socks. " Oh, were you the one knocking ?" I asked like the dumbass I am.

         " Yeah," he understandably replied " I heard some dripping sound coming from here, and thought I'd take a quick look.". I shifted my head towards my canvas, only to see that it hadn't dried since the last time I'd painted on it. To be honest, I didn't really care for the work, so I just let it drip down before cleaning it up. Besides, the idea of having someone talk to me was more important in my mind, especially a guy as handsome as him. Say what you will, but just know I have my own tastes; whether other people are aware of them or not.

         Appearance is the second key after all. Regardless of my perverted intrusion, I was reluctant to invite him in, but he eventually asked before I could. " Of course," I said in my naturally awkward tone " there isn't much here, but you're welcome inside.". That might've off set him a little, but I couldn't really tell as he was already in before I could give it a second thought. From the moment I turned to face him, I felt a sudden, what I presumed curiosity from his body language.

         Not too long afterwards, he stared intensely at the large towel I used to hide away my completed pieces from any uncaring eyes. In the opposite corner was my now distorted canvas, but he ignored that as he kept his sights on the barely visible stack of paintings. " Oh, those caught your eye ?" I asked. " Yeah," he whispered " I've always had a ' fascination' you can say with artwork. In fact, my younger brother used to make paintings as well. I guess it just runs in the family.".

         He then let out a slight giggle as his legs crept to the pile. " Can I take a peek ?" he said with an enthusiastic tone in his rugged voice " I promise I won't damage them.". I couldn't help it, my head nodded, and he proceeded to lift the veil. I slowly walked towards him as he silently picked up the first piece; a depiction of a forest I'd visited in autumn the year before. " Nice," he said with the gentlest smile I'd ever seen " I really like the depth of it. Shading is really good. Just really good overall.".

         Now I had my own art critic, judging every one of my works until the very last. Granted, these paintings were more or less meant to just be expressions of myself, not some masterpieces that historians in the future would look back upon. Even so, he was such a nice man that it didn't really bother me then. He was also the only person who actually gave me a legitimate compliment, which certainly made me feel good. By the time we'd reached the last painting, the sun was already setting, and he had to leave.

         It was strange, having somebody you don't know suddenly walk into your home, or room in this case, and go through your belongings. Still, even if he was nefarious in any way, I wouldn't really have anything to give. As much as I hated to hear it, he ultimately told me that he needed to go. Another odd thing was that neither of us knew each other's names, so I decided to give a very late introduction before he left. " Constantine, huh ?" he said with a slight chuckle " Well, my name is Jack; nothing more, nothing less. I hope you'll be willing to show me some more pieces once you're done with them. Hell, I might even get back into painting my self. Anyways, I'll see you again if I can.".

         And with that, he left, leaving me alone again in my cell of a room. The sun had set, and I decided to try and get some rest. My body lowered itself on to the floor, and before I could reminisce on the day, I'd fallen asleep, awaiting the new day...for once.