Distant onlookers might imagine her canvas to be awash in strokes of subtle greens and vibrant reds. Bouquets of lush roses captured in still life. It makes perfect sense to assume such a thing.
But a closer inspection reveals the stunning portrait of a fragile doe-eyed child.
I have heard she comes here regularly to paint her face again and again, here in her favorite place.
How she loved this garden. How she adored the sweet fragrance of roses!
She likes to remember her here, each brush stroke of oil recalling the beautiful moments of a life too soon stilled.
kat ~ 27 September 2015
100 Word Story in response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers (FFfAW) weekly challenge. To see more stories click HERE.