Le peintre | The painter

In the next few day I figured out a place to stay, it was a small apartment, an old style by a bustling city road. People always find peace and silence to write but my inspiration was people, so I liked looking out from window and finding my inspiration. One time I saw an old person who was selling newspaper, I stopped him to ask for newspaper for myself.

Now, I wasnt a very keen on reading newspaper but I was also keeping an eye on the news so if there's any news related to me I would see that. I imagined seeing a news headline

Famous Poet Viola Clare missing and her husband is miserable!!

I only imagined your dad as a miserable person Jenna, but I knew he wouldn't mind my absence. But I know he would not hesitate to show his acting skills, I didn't see anything about me, but news related to the War and at the end of the newspaper where the local news was there I saw the advertisement again.

FEMALE MODEL NEEDED FOR A         
                     URGENT NUDE PORTRAIT 
I am a painter and Illusionist, Arthur Nicole and I urgently need a female model for a nude portrait. I will pay 60 Euro for an hour. Interested individual meet me tomorrow 6pm at my studio.
Address :- Monsieur et Madame A. Delorme
60 Avenue Maine.
75014 Paris
France

I noticed the offer price has gone from 50 to 60 euro, I understood Arthur was really desperate now. I felt bad for him, I kept the newspaper away and started looking out of the window again. I saw a woman selling flowers, Daisy flowers! I took my notebook and started writing

fleur  | flower

Amidst life's stormy trials we stand tall,
Like flowers, we rise, despite the squall.
Petals bruised, yet beauty we unveil,
Struggle's embrace, our strength prevails.
In every bloom, a story untold,
Through challenges faced, our spirits unfold.

I thought about Arthur the painter, his struggles must be really hard, I don't know why I felt like I should see him.. Because the kind of passion an artist has when they are struggling is unmatched. May be, I needed to see that closely. Maybe, that's how I will once again find the passion to write.

                                   ****

The next day I went to Arthur's studio. I saw it was an old place kind of away from the city, I had to book a cab to that place. It was a yellow building with moss green tint. I rang the bell, and I heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and then a voice said  "Je viens"

I guessed that would be Im coming or something.

Then the door opened and I saw him for the first time. Arthur Nicole, the painter. He wasn't any extraordinary looking guy. He was a tall and lean figure person. He wore a peanut colour shirt which was way bigger that his size and a brown trousers. His hair was messy and his hands were covered with paint. When he saw me he looked at me from up and down. He must be thinking I'm his model, but I'm sure he was thinking of how he would say that and an ugly person like me isn't a good fit for a nude portrait.

He opened his mouth, his lips were quite thin and his jaw was a strong and he looked like he has shaved few days before. He said "Entrez, madame"

I said "im sorry I dont know French" and nervously smiled at him.

he looked really confused, don't know how to put his words together he motioned me to come in.

I understood and said "ah you want me to come in"

he nodded.

I went inside and it was a really pleasent place, there was a fragrance, which I couldn't quite put together but It was really intoxicating. He offered me a sit. I sat and don't know how to explain to him so I just started at him. He did the same, then with an accent he said

"English?"

I said "Ah! Yes." I spoke slowly "I saw your Advertisement"

He didn't understand, so I took the newspaper out of my bag and showed him, he took a chair for himself and sat infront of me.

he said "Ah tu veux être le modèle?"

I said "sorry?"

he said "You, model?"

I shook my head "No, no I'm a poet I write" , I showed him some of my writings, He was seeing them closely and i was seeing him. I thought he's a beautiful man. He looks like a painter I don't know how to describe but he did.

"Good, Um why you come here?" He said with broken English and I felt embarrassed.

"Um, I liked your painting." I said pointing out to the painting in the news paper.

He nodded slowly, looking at me with intensity. I could feel my flesh burning with the intensity. His eyes were kind though.

"Sorry, I should not have come. I wasted your time."

I said and I stood up and he also stood up
and said "no no, help me! You please ummm model?"

I said little laughing "Ahah, Im not a model no no I'm sorry." I shook my head.

He took my hand in his hand and said
"Tu es vraiment belle, s'il te plait sois mon modèle" and kissed my hand softly. I was shocked and I didn't knew what he said but I liked it.

I looked at his face, his face is pleading. I took a deep breath and said "okay I will think about it."

He understood and smiled widely. He let go of my hand and said "thank you!"

then he said "you see my painting?" I guessed he is asking me if I want to see his paintings. so I nodded yes.

Then later that day when I got home, feeling lots of different feelings together I went to find the dictionary. and looked for the meaning of the line

"Tu es vraiment belle, s'il te plait sois mon modèle"

and it meant

"You are beautiful. Please be my model."