Friday, May 24, 2013

Pages of Pigments VI

As promised, Pages of Pigments VI! Don't forget to enter the giveaway at the bottom of this post AND if you are writing this weekend go here and sign up for #MWWM Lots of you have told me you are in on Twitter, but not all of you have made it official. 



It was the swan from the painting. But it was someplace different. She couldn't make out what it had been painted on. A rough paper or a think crude canvas—she couldn't be sure. It's wooden frame was splintered, and pulling apart in all the joints. It was so dark that it was almost black. Lucia touched it with slow and careful fingertips, wondering if it had always been that shade or if it had aged with time.

The swan that sat in the middle of the painting lay almost still. Gliding so slow, you could almost believe it was an ordinary motionless painting if not for the little waves that floated away from its opalescent white feathers. The swan seemed content to sit there—if not a little sad.

Only in the corner of the painting where the frame was the most damaged, it appeared that a large bit of surface of the lake had been completely torn away. The tare was all jagged edges and paper teeth.

That's a shame,” William said, eyes taking in the same damage as Lucia.


It was a shame, but Ripley didn't say anything at all. He just stood stiff, staring at the painting until finally he mumbled something Lucia didn't catch the first time. 
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