“Let me think… what could it be,” she taunted once her cruel callous laughter ebbed, “a Stormtrooper who has laid down his gun to pick up a paintbrush could be, let’s see, yes, ‘Make art not war’, and the blank canvas… Oh I know, the future of my creativity if I receive any more gifts from you!”

I stared dumbfounded at the heartless woman who stood mocking my sentiments without a second thought (weren’t painters supposed to be gentle sensitive people!) and the shades of blind worship that I wore slowly slipped away, exposing the truth instead of the image of perfection that I had created in my head.

I had intended to give her a gift of courtship, instead I had received a gift of clarity, and thank God for that.

 


Written for Three Line Tales hosted by Sonya with photo prompt by Daniel Cheung via Unsplash

 

2 thoughts on “The Gift

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