Keys to the Kingdom - P.K. Gallagher (find a book to read txt) 📗

then that’s perfect. It’s called Self Portrait but it can be my self portrait or yours or anyone’s. Maybe I should have called it Mirror because that’s what I want it to be.”

Adrienne stood rather suddenly, grabbing her bag, sketchbook, and umbrella.

Erik looked up surprised and if he were honest with himself a little hurt. She was leaving. He opened up to her and now she was leaving. What, did he have a masochistic streak that perpetually needed indulging? Why did he keep doing this to himself? “Get what you need?” he almost snarled.

Her expression became pained. “Would you stop,” she said. “As a matter of fact I did get what I needed but no need for you to act like a wounded puppy. You’ve inspired me Sinclaire. I’m going home to draw.” She flashed him one of those perfect brilliant smiles that would have hurt him if she hadn’t said, “I’ll come back and show it to you when it’s finished.” She was coming back? She’d gotten what she’d wanted but was still coming back? “Thank you, Mr. Sinlcaire. Enjoy the Chinese.” She waved and then disappeared through the apartment door.

Erik stared at the closed door for a moment before walking slowly back into his bedroom and over to the window, watching. He felt strangely restless. Not the way he’d been earlier when he wanted to run, but internally restless. Like something inside him was swirling his insides around.

The storm had gotten worse, the rain falling almost horizontally. He waited until the small black circle reappeared from out of the building. After a few minutes it did and slowly began making its way down the street. Suddenly though, a particularly strong gust of wind blew, turning the umbrella inside out and yanking it out of Adrienne Ivers’s hand, carrying it down the street. She looked for a moment as if she might run after it but after a second of deliberation, she could almost be seen to shrug as she walked away, bent over her bag to protect it.

Erik turned away from the window and to his desk where his own sketchpad still lay. He sat down and began to draw. His new painting would be of a girl whose sketchbook has been ripped out of her hands by the wind and the pages are being scattered. One page would show one of Adrienne’s soulless drawings, another would show a mirror, still another would show the two of them talking, and the last would show Erik’s own face flushed with a rush of emotions. He would call it Keys to the Kingdom.

 

Imprint

Publication Date: 06-30-2013

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To all those artists with temperamental muses