The Play of Light

It seemed to be a slightly gloomy day. Not as dreary as the sunset for some, but enough for the sun to be cloaked in clouds that gently drifted into the mist. The slightly humid air penetrated under the thick clothes that seemed to be walking gathered from so much winter that was reflected in a white perfume of silence. The morning rain had drenched the dewy grass of early spring, which lay quietly to one side, bent as if telling immortal stories to the passers-by, about new roads lying before them, full of fluttering snowdrops, sprung up here and there. The way home was long. He liked the smell of green grass and white snowdrops. They always reminded him of the flowers in the garden, cared for with great care and special attention. He stomped hard, as if he wanted to bend the unyielding spring grass. The wind blow gray, spreading misty perfume. The clouds were disappearing from the land parched by yesterday's wind. The path was shaded by bushes of prematurely flowering thorn, lied to by a cold spring. The white flowers defied the dampness of the expected morning rain. He walked with the indifference of one who carefully defies the road laid before him. Suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head and looked for a long time towards the noise of clothes rustling in the fog. - Excuse me, I didn't want to hit you, he apologized first. - Don't do anything. Be more careful next time. I got wet all over my feet. The crystalline voice echoed in his ear like the long-awaited spring. The youth defied the last days of winter, how easily this young woman could have banished them with only a few words. Her voice seemed to disperse the clouds from the sky. The serenity revealed itself before him like the girl's face beneath the sky. He turned in the girl's direction. - If I had remembered that this little path does not house two people, I would have been more careful. I apologize, Miss, for my great carelessness. - This is now. I can handle it like that. - Next time I will be more careful. - I hope so. But little chance. - Do you rarely take this route? - Rarely. We are unlikely to meet again. - Let's hope that maybe we will meet again. - Maybe not, said the young woman looking at her wet feet. The socks hung slightly wet over the shoes. - Maybe a clear sky would cheer you up, the young man told him, showing him the blue corner with his hand. You may have a nice day in the direction you are going. - Possibly. I heard it rained in the city, but it stopped raining for a while. A few hours of sunshine wouldn't hurt. Suddenly, he was no longer in a hurry. He would have braved the rain for that voice. - Finally, have a good trip, answered the girl. - You are in a hurry. I may hold you for a few moments longer. - On another rare occasion, answered the young woman and smiled loudly with irony. - Of course. Excuse me. A beautiful day, the young man managed to say to the girl whose figure loomed in the distance. He continued on his way, his gaze slightly turned downward, as if counting the girl's steps. - Wait a little, he called, somewhat indecisively after the girl. At least tell me when you come to the country again. - In a few years, the girl called him, slightly ironic. The city stops me on the way. - Of course, it couldn't be otherwise, the young man exclaims, as if for himself. Their eyes crossed and a moment of light entered the young man's past. She was dressed in something white. Perhaps, hence her anger that she would have soiled her clothes. White is more difficult to clean. That was why he had to be so careful. Her voice seemed to spread light. Beautiful girl, he told himself. Kind of restless. You say that it comes with the rain in the words and the sun in the voice. He almost got caught up in the storm with this girl. But what a storm... - You could almost say I fell in love, the young man said to himself, now walking much more easily. Ironic, defiant and carefree. What could be worse than that? A real storm. He laughed. Sometimes the weather is deceiving. Don't forget. He sat down at the table. He was going back to town tomorrow. He will have to work harder to make up for lost time. He liked his job, he had chosen it as a child, and so far he had no regrets. But his paintings had changed. As if every day, he was forgetting more and more blue. He had brought a few paintings here, at home, as he used to from the beginning. In his free time he painted for home. He had a small collection at the country house. He wanted to paint the face, not to forget the light of her face. He starts to pencil. He didn't think long before he got to work. Painting was his passion, and it wasn't a job, but a well-paid retreat, usually. Specifically, when he was working for others. A good few hours of work had passed. His hands were moving by themselves. The figure of the girl took more and more shape on the white sheet of paper. He wanted to fill the sketchbook with her image. He took the painting carefully and placed it on the chair. He would have liked to be able to look at it freely. A small ray of light shone from it. He was quite satisfied with his work. Amazing to him too how quickly he had finished it. The girl he had just met carried all the credit. She was actually much more beautiful than in the painting. He didn't think he was wrong. However, he had captured her quite well in the drawing. He was preparing his luggage. He didn't have much to pack, but the painting needed to dry. He moves it towards the window. Half an hour was too little. He needed more time. He will have to carry it in his hand, very carefully. Time passed quickly and you set off for the city. Somewhat uncomfortable this way. The cloth chosen was not very large, but not so small as not to make him uncomfortable. He was walking slowly. He will be late. But his thoughts were occupied now. He was still trying to find a solution to meet the young woman he had bumped into. A few years seemed a long time... And uncertain... Look in the diary. He had to find her. At the gallery, everything seemed to be perfect. He habitually greeted everyone he knew and retired to a corner of the table. Wait. He was running out of patience. He heard footsteps to his left. He recognized them and looked away. A slightly bright light makes him dizzy for a short time. It was her. She was dressed in white. He didn't move towards her. He let her observe the paintings. The footsteps suddenly stopped exactly where he suspected this would happen. He walked towards her gently, so as not to disturb her sooner than he had planned. The girl was transfixed in front of a painting. - Does it represent you? he asked her. - I think so, she answered slowly without looking at the interlocutor. Amazing! We meet again... I guess you bought me a pair of socks. - No, I can only give you the ones in the painting. They are dry. The girl laughed. - Ana. - Nice to meet you, Ana. I am Andrei. - For work? - Painter. - That's probably why you're here. - Somewhat. - Do you like the painting? - Quite enough. You'd say it's me. It's an amazing resemblance. But so much light? She must be a special girl if she inspires so much joy. A good painter. I like. - And if I told you that it is you in the painting? - I would think less. Although somewhat similar to our date. The snowdrop trail amazes me. - It matches your white dress. - Maybe... You painted the picture, excuse me for asking? - Yes... - Inspired by our meeting? - Yes. - The exhibition therefore belongs to you. It is no coincidence that your name, Andrei, is the name of the painter presenting his works. - I guess not. - Thanks. Nice to look at. - No more than you. - Thanks... She looked at him for a long time, perhaps for the first time. - A nice compliment. Is the painting expensive? - I give it to you. - I can't accept it. - I insist. It will arrive packed tonight if you agree to go out for dinner. Or maybe you'd rather have it now, although I'd like others to enjoy it throughout this day. - Maybe others will enjoy the rest of the paintings. Do they all belong to you? - No... he has another friend, for sale, a few. - Of course. - If you want, I can accompany you on a short walk to present my work and that of Mircea, my friend. Or maybe you want to guess whose each one is. - I'd rather you tell me. Although I don't think it's anything difficult, as I realized from the picture you made me. - We will see. Guess all the pictures. - You are good. - Thanks. - Therefore, the painting now or later in the evening? - As you prefer. - See you tonight, in front, here, at the gallery. - I haven't confirmed the meeting yet. - Thus? - May be. I'm still walking and thinking, Andrei, the painter. - Of course. can I accompany you? - I prefer alone, if you don't mind. - It's fine. I did not expect otherwise. Ana smiled and turned her gaze to the painting of her. - What price does irony have? - It's free when given as a gift. Anna laughed. - Maybe a writer too? - No, only a painter, Andrei also laughed. - A review would have been appropriate in this case. - Writer? - No, book reviewer. I give good printing. - Interesting. - Do you only print books? - Yes. - Then, I breathe a sigh of relief that I'm not a writer. - Yes, that's the case, answered Ana seriously. - Short of books for printing? - No, Ana laughed. Only good writers. - I will also think about the option of becoming an elite writer, with a printing license agreement from you. - Your choice. The painting confirms your lines. The white dress represents me a bit. - Yes? Andrei asked her in surprise. I would say she is perfect. - Maybe in a frozen autumn, not in a frozen spring. - Maybe I was wrong, although I don't think so. - Therefore, it is spring. Maybe you don't like the season. - I love it for its brightness. Shall we discuss this topic at dinner? - Good. It stays for tonight. Hour? - Five o'clock is good? - Half past five is perfect. - Then it stays that way. The painting again tonight. I'll bring it. - Perfect. Have a nice day Mr. Painter. - Likewise, young reviewer. Andrei was delighted. - You arrived just in time. Welcome to the painting. - Thanks. Can I open it to look at it again? - As you wish. It belongs to you. Ana looked at the painting for a long time. She was fascinated by the mixture of dark colors from which a white light emanated, she. - If you don't mind the question... Why the white dress? - I particularly liked it. - When did you start painting? - Yes... - Did you want to single me out? - Not. Simply in white I liked to dress you. - But it doesn't represent me in that landscape. - But where? - I can't name a specific place right now. - OK. Did he deceive me? - Surely. - Yes... White makes you stand out. - Possibly. I think it would have been a much more successful painting with more warm tones. - May. - So cold around me... And the icicles froze. - Sometimes in the spring, there is still snow. - So the white also freezes. - Often. - But in your painting, less. - Really. Tell me, as a reviewer, about your last published book. Was it a success? - You can say so. Sales went pretty well. - And the name of the novel? - "Fall of the evening". - Interesting. - Does it often fall in the evening? - Who cares, laughed Ana. - Do you have an answer for anything? - For you..., Ana laughed again. Andrei also started to laugh. - It's just an answer to your question, Ana apologizes. - So you're saying I'm being ironic? - It depends, on the circumstances, from what I have observed. Andrei laughed again. - You mean I have no lines for you? - That's what they say sometimes, Ana also laughed. - Okay, Ana, when will we meet again? - I'm quite busy. - I was sure of your answer but also of your responsibility towards your work. But still, when can we meet again? - On a Thursday. - Which Thursday? - Some day. - A specific day? Next Thursday, shall we say? - May be. - Maybe it's not an answer. - It's full stop. - Of course. - Let's say Thursday. - Okay, Ana, we'll see you on Thursday. We go to another place. Let me surprise you. - As you prefer. Although sometimes surprises scare me. - Why? - Of their instability to like. Andrei laughed again. - Ana, you fascinate me with your irony. - I didn't hope so, laughed Ana. - Of course you didn't hope, answered Andrei. They parted. Andrei was fascinated by Ana's presence. Everything in her breathes light, her voice, her words, her walk, her gestures. On the way he started singing without wanting to. He had fallen in love with this girl. Book reviewer. A perfect job for the way she was. He couldn't wait to see her again. He returned home and poured himself a glass of cold water from the fridge. There's still until Thursday. He had to spend his time somehow. He starts painting. Involuntarily he began to outline her thin figure. He adored her. Smile. It was the first time he felt this way. He wanted to give her a present. Still a painting? An outdated idea. Did not work. But he continues to paint it. Maybe he'll buy her a white dress. The white caught her well. Or maybe too early for such a gift. In the end he made up his mind and went shopping. She wanders through several stores until she finds a dress just like she wanted. White, plain, bare back. He asked that it be wrapped nicely and sent it to her address, to the office where she worked along with a bouquet of red roses. Nothing was too soon, as long as he liked her. Tired, from walking so much, he sat down on the sofa in the living room and started to draw it further. He was waiting for her with another bouquet of roses, this time white, and a single red one. "The exception proves the rule," he told Ana, regarding the red rose. - Of course, Ana laughed. And a cord, for a white dress? - I didn't think of that. It remains for next time. Although in clothing, I prefer the items to be in one color. - Me too. - An exception to the rule, and an all-white dress? - Maybe just the cord, Andrei laughed. Ana laughed too. - We laugh a lot together, Andrei. You have a sense of humor. - Like you, by the way... - Where are we going today? - Somewhere where we can still dance. - Sounds good. - Like everything I do. - Modesty is your weak point. - Are you offending me, Ana? - It was a compliment. - An exception to the rule, my dear Ana. He gently grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him. She leaned her head gently on his shoulder. It was a bit chilly outside and this time, Ana had chosen to wear a cream jacket over a dark cream blouse with a dark cherry skirt. - You look very good tonight, Ana. - Thanks for the compliment. And you matched, without wanting to. Andrei was wearing a dark cream shirt. They started together hand in hand towards the restaurant. Andrei had also chosen this time the location where they would spend their time together. - When we run out of words, what do we say to each other, Andrei? - Nothing, Ana. Because we will only need words to strengthen our feelings. - A bit early for such a discussion. - It's never too early for anything. It must only be a good thing. That's all. - And? - And? - The lack of words, you say, will be natural? - As you are, Ana, unique and uncertain until the review. I hope you will be gentle with me in appreciation. - Better objective. - And what opinion have I given you so far? - That you are an intelligent but sad man. - Sad? - Yes, sad. So it seems. I think you're hiding from the sharp lines, even though you're not wearing black. - How so? - You could have painted me any other color, but you chose white. - Right, Ana. Especially since you were wearing something white. - Yes, mostly. - And that makes me a sad man? How sad do you think it is? - As long as you let only what you want to be seen. - And this time, correctly, Ana. But isn't that how we all do it? - Don't generalize. All are out of the question. I was talking about you. Your whiteboard breathes sadness. - Yes, Ana, keep saying... - There is nothing left to say. For now... - You always leave a way out, Ana. - When appropriate. I have to walk more. They both laughed. - You light up my life, Ana, with your lines! - I noticed, smiled Ana. - How do you like the painting? - It's special. - That much? - For now. Do you want to come to my workshop, Ana? - When? Now? - Yes. - Let's go then. In front of a light green painted house was a workshop with bright windows. - I have arrived, Ana. I'll let you walk around a bit while I arrange another one around here. - Good. Andrei started to tidy up the workshop a little. He had left them scattered, last time, since he had been. Maybe now was the time to tell Ana. At least, that's how it felt. He caught her with his middle arm. - I love you, Ana. - And you to me, answered Ana. - I don't want to ever lose you. You restore the light to my eyes. - What do you mean? Ana asked. - I mean, I'm blind without you, Ana. - Here you go? - You didn't expect it. I believe you. I have been playing a perfect role for many years. I don't have the same inspiration as I used to, so I only paint as a job, but since I met you things have changed. Ana looked at him with wide eyes. She reached out and gently touched his cheek. He wanted to comfort him. - Now, I told you, Ana, one of the reasons for my sadness. I would like to spend as much time as possible together. You have all the time in the world to make up your mind... Look, Ana, these are my paintings, the first ones, and the ones on the left of the camera are the ones after. Look at them... Ana headed towards the paintings. You could see some quietness in the early paintings and a darker color palette in the later ones. - Now, look at the paintings with you. What do you notice? - Some light, answered Ana amazed. - I have the impression that you are healing me, Ana. - How so? - Do you notice, Ana, the light in the paintings with you? See how strong she is? When you're around me, you light up everything. Strange, I would never have thought that anything could change in my condition, but you do Ana. You literally light up my room. They all shine beside you. Could it be love? - Isn't it a bit early for such a statement? - No, Ana, it's just a constant. I fell in love with the light, with you. - Andrew... - It took me a while to find you. Good thing I have a phonebook full of phone numbers. Useful, after all. I'll wait for you, as long as you want, until you decide to be with me. - This could take a while, Andrei. You know, I'm more ironic. - In time, Ana... maybe you will feel the same way. - May be. - You left me speechless, Andrei. Just me. I did not expect. - Things are simple, Ana. do you want to be with me - Andrew... - Don't hurry, I'm waiting for your answer. Now look at all the paintings you want, and then I'll drive you home. - See you on Thursday? - Maybe Wednesday, Ana smiled. - A hope, Ana. That's enough and that's it. - I hope so. He felt relieved that he had told her how he felt. Ana had really become a part of his life, in such a short period of time, and he didn't want to lose her. He didn't want to rush it too much either, but he would have preferred to spend as much time together as possible. The paintings of her reminded him of his first paintings, and that was enough. He had so much more to say to her, but he stopped. Maybe another time. He was looking forward to seeing her. Until then, he tried to fill his time with all kinds of recreational activities. Instead, his passion for painting had returned, as in the beginning. He spent more and more time in the workshop. Ever since he met Ana, everything had changed for him. Even the workshop seemed brighter with the pictures he had painted recently. Ana hadn't even had time to lie down on the sofa, next to Andrei, when there was a knock at the door. Surprised, Andrei went to open it. - A bouquet of flowers for Ana, said the voice of the young man delivering the package. - From whom? Andrei asked with an ironic smile. - From a recently lapsed admirer. - Are those his words? - Yes. - And the name? - David, answered the courier and left. - Listen, Ana..., said David. - I heard... answered Ana somewhat annoyed, with the bouquet of flowers in her arms. - It suits you well. She made you a wildflower arrangement. He wants you in particular. - This means? - That's how I would interpret it... A classic bouquet might include me too. - What fine irony you have. - But he didn't even have the patience to start working together. Are you still working? There's also a ticket. Read it please... - You can read it yourself, Ana handed him the piece of paper. - "A classic and constant admirer. A beautiful day! ". And individualistic... He could have complimented you in writing, but he preferred to self-censor with "and". Evidently disturbed by David's gesture, Andrei left the room. - I have work to do. I'll be back later. - Wait a minute, Andrei, I'm not to blame. - But are you going to work with him? - I guess so?!! - Then what else do you want? answered Andrei, leaving the room. In the office he starts working on a new painting. Angry, he painted Ana in David's arms, how they were both dancing, in the white dress he had given her as a gift some time ago. Nervous, he was hurrying to finish, when Ana entered the office. - What are you working? - Nothing special, Andrei insisted, somewhat afraid that Ana would not see his painting, that escape, somewhat a repressing of what had happened. Maybe it will take David out of the landscape, but until the next moment, David appears in the painting. - Do you like flowers? Andrei wants to change the subject. - What are you painting for the first time? I want to see… He had taken full revenge on her with this painting. He knew her and was anxious to see how she would rage. - Why are not you saying anything? Do you like the painting? Silence. - I insist, my dear, that you answer me, Andrei told her ironically. - You are a blind painter, answered Ana with tears in her eyes. And she went to the bedroom, took the white dress from the hanger and threw it at him, right into his arms. - What is your reaction, Ana... Our first fight..., if I can call it that. You're not going to wear the dress anymore. - To paint me in the dress you gave me as a gift, together with him, that provokes a fight... I'm gorgeous with him. They brought tears to my eyes. - Don't be ironic, Ana. We can't even argue, you make me laugh... Look at the painting. You were left alone in this wonderful field of flowers, Andrei told her, erasing David from the landscape in one fell swoop. - Thank you, Ana replied. But I'm still angry. - Forgive me my love, I rushed into painted feelings. - I do not forgive you. - Are you wearing the dress to a dinner party tonight? I invite you to dance. - Maybe... I look better alone in the painting. - I didn't know you were so sensitive. - That's how it seems to you, but for me it mattered that you painted me with another man. - You are too emotional. - I do not think so. Just realistic. Plus the white dress you knew was my favorite... Anyway... you overwhelmed me without expecting it. - Little bit. It was an uninspired repulsion of mine. Now I hope your anger is over. - He's passing by, Ana replied slowly. Don't ever do that again, especially if you know it's not my fault. - Good. - You promise? - I'm trying to promise. - No, Andrei..., he promises. - Okay, Ana. Ana chose a simple dress, a dark cream to brown, and they went out together to have dinner in town. - You look wonderful in this dress. You didn't listen to my advice. - After you finish the painting, I'll see if I ever wear the dress again. - I think it will sell quickly... That is if David doesn't buy it. He will perhaps remember the wildflowers he gave you. - Stop insisting, I thought I had finished the subject. - It was a simple remark. - Repeated... - In love everything repeats itself. My heart beats only for you, since we met. - You are romantic? - He stayed a little today. David is a reason for rest for me. - And you for me, when I saw the painting. - When do you finish it? - As soon as possible. You look special in that dress that I see you keep refusing to wear. - You gave me reasons. I might wear it tonight, but as you can see I've exhausted all arguments to wear it, with your help. - I'm really sorry, Ana. I'll buy you another one. - I don't want another one. - Are we fighting over a painting or a dress? - It seems because of your lack of sensitivity regarding me. If you want, I'm not working with David anymore. - It's your decision, Ana. - I was thinking like this... that I don't like the discussions between us that arise from this topic. - Me neither. - It's late, Ana. We're going to be late for dinner if we keep talking. - You started. - And I finish it too. Look, Ana, I don't like David, but if you were impressed by his appearance as a gentleman, in front of me he leaves a lot to be desired. He knew you were with me. - That's right, Ana replied, but you can't control your feelings. - But a moral conduct, yes. - Correct. - Therefore, he sent the flowers to my house, Ana. Understand? - I'm trying. You have your fair share, but if I have nothing against him, that should be enough for you. - It is, Ana. - Do you dance, Ana? - A little... Here, now...? Andrei wrapped his middle arm around her and pulled her tightly towards him. - One step, Ana. That's enough for me. - Good, Ana replied and let herself be in his arms, led to the rhythm of music, without sound. - My painting of love pales in front of you... - Thanks... - You float, Ana, when you dance. - In your arms, all the time. - Do you love, Ana? - May be... - Today less, tomorrow more, Ana.