The memory of that smile...
H e dreamed his paintings long before their birth, in sleepless nights when feverish he tossed in bed visions and images filling his head. He would approach the canvass and touch it as if it were alive caressing the blank surface with the paint less brushes creating invisible forms of the feelings in his mind Hour after hour he would stare at that blankness not eating, not talking, impervious of time Sometimes she felt afraid for his sanity, for his health, but laying next to him, there was... Sign in to see full entry.