The world slowed. I watched as Eli’s flying elbow met with the dirty paint water cup. The slow rock as the water sloshed back and forth. Back and forth.
Eli’s face went slack with horror and he made to move and catch the cup before it tipped over and got all over the painting below.
He was too slow.
The brown water finally tipped fully over and cascaded down to the painting. The still water paint ...
The matriculatious shape of his brow, his sloping eyes; the curve of his nose and the shape of his lips. All working together to form him.
Him.
Thomas.
His auburn hair, curling this way, and that. Framing his freckled, sharp face. The gods adored him.
Spoiled him with gifts of perfection.
His smile that showed perfect teeth, sharp features transformed to soft lines.
A pain...
I plop down into a wooden chair, getting comfortable. They figure continues to stare, while I simply shrug and smile up at him.
“Where did you get this?” He demands.
“I don’t know. It just,” I pause, giving dramatic effect, “,appeared at my door one day.”
“It can’t just appear! I have been pooking everywhere for this, and you know that!” The figure screams at me.
“What?” I gasp, putting a hand ove...