I took a few steps back, wiping my forehead with my hand. Probably even smearing some colors on it. I didn’t care. I always got dirty even behind my ears when I was painting. The whole canvas was covered in various shades of red, only a tiny bit of pink and orange. It was a setting sun in the sky. You could feel all the intense emotions in it. No peace nor calmness. I had to shout!
“Looks… intense. Very intense.” I felt someone behind me, warm breath on my ear. His hand softly touched mine and made me hold up the brush in front of me, pointing to the canvas.
“It only needs your signature and date. It’s perfect.” He whispered again, then he straightened his back, leaving my ear alone. He sent all kinds of goosebumps all over my body. Why didn’t I hear him coming? Was I so deep in my thoug
