The Museless Artist|| Inkwell Prompt #52

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The sun busted through his room waking him up from his slumber and bringing him back to reality, he had taken a hefty sum from the art society to draw a masterpiece for their opening day but he couldn’t just get himself to even raise his paintbrushes

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Maybe it was because he no longer had a reason to draw or a muse as most artists called it, he thought about the times when he could draw a million things just by hearing her laugh but those days were gone and he needed to figure it out or risk being sued.

He decided that maybe some coffee would motivate him to draw so he quickly put on his signature jeans and a black t-shirt that was covered in splashes of paint and stepped out of his scrawny-looking apartment.

The coffee shop he was going to was just a few blocks away from his apartment and he didn’t only go there because of their coffee but because of her; Layla.

While he walked to the coffee shop, he spent some time reminiscing about how he had met her, she was a pretty shy girl that always came to his art shows, and one day, he decided to talk to her and the rest was history.

They dated for about a year with memories that just thinking about brought joy to his heart but he messed up, as usual, he let her go by one mistake made on a stupid drunken night.

As he stepped into the coffee shop, he was immediately met with a whiff of coffee beans and vanilla, he never knew the scent of these things until Layla brought him here and now he could never forget, he was about to take a sit before the barista spoke to him.

“Hey Liam, the usual right?”

“Yes, of course” he replied with a smile

He always came to the coffee shop so much so that everyone knew him and his order and even after Layla dumped him over text, he still came there in hopes that he might bump into her again but he never did.

His order was finally handed to him and he quickly tipped the barista and headed out of the coffee shop despite her obvious flirting with him, she always did that when he came but he wasn’t interested; no one could compare to the woman he lost.

Getting back to his apartment, he decided to take a nap after devouring his ice mocha and chocolate buns and promised himself that he would get drawing the moment he woke up.

He woke up to the sound of his neighbors arguing for the umpteenth time about their children and said to himself

“Nice, just what I needed I guess”.

Standing up from his bed, he walked past his mirror and took a pause which he hadn’t done since the breakup; his blonde hair looked a bit crazy, his beard needed shaving, his blue eyes seemed dull and he had lost so much weight, maybe from only eating breakfast foods from the coffee shop.

Looking at his reflection sparked something in him and he immediately picked up his paintbrushes while rushing to open some paint cans.

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For the first time in two months, he painted like his life depended on it, splashing colors on his canvas and gasping for air as he moved and paced around and after five hours, he looked at his canvas and saw his masterpiece.

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He titled his painting “the museless artist” and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever made and deep down, he hoped that Layla would see this somehow and maybe he would get the opportunity to explain to her about what happened that night.

He had never cheated on her as she thought, and even though he was drunk that night, all he did was sleep off in the wrong bed.


THE END


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