Writing Prompt 49: Urban Painting
It's strange thinking about the month of December 2019 and then thinking about what happened in the world a couple of months later.
I remember having various conversations with different people that ran along the lines of, it's just a type of flu, isn't it? Until it wasn't.
This week's picture is one of my favourites from my husband’s archive. A photograph he took while on a business trip to Seoul, in December 2019. I love how the painting exists across the wall and the box (I think it's a postbox), creating a picture with a story in an otherwise bland urban exterior.
I see a story in the painting itself. You might think about the person who painted it. We all have our perspective. What's yours?
Bird-Woman
The wind picked up through the valley, mumbling across the hills, rustling the last of the dead dry leaves in the forest.
Tyreen stood facing the wind, eyes locked on the horizon.
Across the canyon, Agathe stretched out her wings and flicked her feathers. Dust particles gathered up into a small cloud above her. Her hair hung loose and tangled around her neck. She gathered it up, tying it back with a piece of string.
She lifted her face towards the rocky precipice where Tyreen stood every evening. Her heart lurched in her chest. She lifted herself, the tips of her wings holding her in the air. She dipped forward, then up into the clouds.
Tyreen watched Agathe sweeping up into the sky. A surge of adrenaline rushed through his body. He clenched his hands into fists and leaned his body forward. A voice, soft yet forceful, drifted on the wind.
"Let me go, Tyreen," she said. "This life is not for you."
Story first posted December 2019 // Photo: James Chaytor 2019
