A Painter's View (Otherwise Untitled)
#122 of Short Stories
A painter considers what's missing from the view below.
~ The old raccoon gazed out over the world below, standing alone in the room of his apartment aboard the orbital station. Letting out a sigh as he turned his attentions to the digital easel, palette-pad in one hand and stylus brush in his other. The sky below was a vibrant mix of hues, and he was only just beginning to manage to ensnare a few of them into his paintings.
~ The vid-phone on the wall gave a soft chime, "Answer.", he replied with a stark voice command.
~ "Hey, Nathan.. Just calling to see how you were doing.", tentatively inquired.
~ His tone a calm rumble, "I'm fine, Barbra. Thank you for asking."
~ The woodpecker on the vid-phone's screen continued her cautious tone, "I didn't see you at the harvest festival."
~ "...", the raccoon spinning the stylus around in a puddle of light blue with the tip occasionally glancing the deeper blue blotch to pull in and mix.
~ "I miss her, too.", the bird's tone finding a stance of patient certainty.
~ The racoon looked to the vid-phone with a slow nod.
~ "Is she there, in your paintings?", Barbra retreating to her tentative tone.
~ Nathan set down the stylus and palette-pad, standing to drink in a long look over the planet below before his reply, "Not yet. Not again.", pained yet patient.