Lemme lean into your ear and whisper today's prompt: "You're downtown, and see graffiti in an unlikely place—graffiti like you've never seen before, concerning someone you know."
"Is it just this one for you today?" The reserved librarian glanced over at me.
"Yes, thanks," I said, smiling and putting the copy of The Intern's Handbook in my shoulder bag.
"That one has a good plot twist," her eyes flicked from the book back to me.
"Really? Neat. The concept sounds really interesting, too. The idea of essentially being a wolf in sheep's clothing..."
"Shh, don't spoil it for any listening ears." The librarian grinned. "I do hope you enjoy it."
"Thanks again!" I waved as I headed out the door. She was a lovely lady, that librarian. Always wanted to make conversation, always smiling. I turned left down the sidewalk, on my way home. A block or two passed without much interference, but as I passed The Wal-Mart that signaled I was near home, I saw a few men chattering about, washing something off the side of the building. Curious, I ventured forward. What laid before me wasn't just a picture - it was art.
"Stupid kids - thinking they can get away with this kinda stuff," one man grumbled angrily. "And we have to clean it up!"
"Give it a rest, Devon. What's done is done. Hurry up with your side, we're going to switch soon." Another man said, sounding bored. I couldn't help but stare at the graffiti. Colours blended so smoothly and wonderfully, and the image was that of a woman's head, surrounded by a flurry of colour that accented every last detail. Something about the art was full of a kind of zest and brilliance that left me speechless. The woman's eyes seemed to be gazing at something far away, perhaps lost in thought.
"Hey. What're you looking at?" The man called Devon asked, eyebrow raised down at me.
"Oh, sorry. I couldn't help but stare at this." Guess I was the one lost in thought. I gestured to the graffiti. "It's beautiful."
"You could say that," the other man said. "But the boss doesn't like a random picture on the side of his building, so us blokes have to clean it up."
"That's a shame," I said.
"Not really," Devon said. "If the kid that did this ever comes back, we'll catch 'em and set 'im right."
"Oh, sure." The other man rolled his eyes. "You said the exact same thing last week, and the week before, etc."
"That's how long it's been here?" I asked, astounded.
"Well, no. Whoever does these likes to mix it up every time. I guess today's was just nicer than the others." He shrugged. "Anyway, we should get back to work. See ya, dude."
"Yeah," I said, still in awe of the smudged, yet still beautiful, art.
Another week had passed by, the days seeming short and quick. I was walking to the library again, having finished my book. On my way there, I made sure to take a look at the Wal-Mart wall. Unfortunately, there was nothing here today, either. I found myself looking forward to the next design that was painted on the wall. Call me a fan of their work, I suppose.
I walked into the library, still thinking about the mystery artist. I was so lost in thought I nearly bumped into someone.
"Ah!" I exclaimed. "Sorry, er...oh, hey." I recognized the lovely librarian lady from last week.
"Don't worry about it," she giggled. "It was partially my fault, too. Did you finish the book?"
"Yeah, I did." I pulled it out and showed her. "You were right about the twist. I think I can actually put that as one of my favourites now."
"Really? That's great!" she sounded ecstatic.
I smiled. "So, where are you headed to?"
"Just out and about," she said. "The other librarian is taking over for me so I can get groceries and the such."
"I see." I nodded. "Well, don't let me stop you."
"It was nice chatting again," she smiled, continuing forward. I waved goodbye and went further into the library.
After my business was settled in the library, I headed down the same path again, wondering if a new design was waiting for me. As I turned the corner, I suddenly saw someone standing before the wall. They had two spray paint cans in their hands, and were painting quickly. I stopped, watching in awe as magic was created before my eyes. Today's piece of art was a realistic-looking cherry blossom tree. Even from here, the amount of detail that went into every petal was evident.
"Wow," I whispered, not even realizing I had spoke. The person flinched, dropping their cans and gasping. They looked straight at me, eyes wide with terror. I hadn't gotten a better look at their face until now - and with a churning feeling in my stomach, I realized it was the librarian from earlier.
She quickly snatched her things, hustling away from the half-finished artwork. I darted after her.
"Wait!" I cried. She kept running. I chased her down the streets, rapidly turning corners and barely keeping my eyes on her. She turned down an alleyway, and so did I. I needn't have ran so fast, because I had to screech to a halt. She had fallen on the cement, knee bleeding and ankle twisted. She bit her lip, still trying to crawl away.
"Stop! Please, you don't need to hurt yourself anymore. It's alright." I approached her cautiously. She seemed to have given up.
"Please don't tell them it's me," she begged. "I can't have them take my tools away. It's all I have left, please."
"I'm not taking anything away," I reassured. "Let me see your ankle." I knelt down. The librarian wiped tears from her eyes.
"I think it's just a sprain," she said.
"Either way I bet it hurts like hell...you can't make it back on your own." She stared at the ground, her mouth in a tight line. I glanced at her. "I'm not going to leave to to fend for yourself. That would be unbelievably rude." She snorted a laugh.
"And chasing me down the streets wasn't rude already?" We shared a laugh. Once the laughter died down, I decided to change the subject.
"What's your name?" I offered her my hand. She took it, and I helped her stand on her good foot.
"Megan," she said, grunting. "You?"
"Tony. Is it okay if I put my arm around you?"
"Go for it. I can't exactly run." I helped her onto the main street, and she directed me in the direction of her house. It was quiet on the way there, so I decided to start conversation.
"Why do you paint?" I asked. She seemed startled by the question.
"Well," she paused, trying to find the words. "I guess because it makes me feel free."
"Free?"
"Yeah. Like, as a librarian, I'm always polite to people, never really opening up or anything. But when I paint, everything just lets loose. It's like a firework, see? But...I dunno. This probably sounds really weird now that I say it out loud." Megan blushed.
"Nah, I've heard more farfetched tales than that. It's really beautiful."
"What?"
"Your art."
"Oh." Her face turned redder. "I thought it was alright."
"Alright? Megan, are you insane?"
"It's a definite possibility," she smirked.
"I've never seen something put together like that before!" I exclaimed. "The way the colours blended, how it just popped out to the eye, and all seemed to mean something more significant...it was brilliant." She was staring at me. I looked ahead, avoiding her eye.
"I was thinking of quitting," she said quietly.
"Why?"
"Bosses complain, other people have to waste time to clean up my mess, and I'm pretty sure all the grannies in town think I'm some drug maniac."
"So?" I said.
"So...if any of them were to find out who I really was, it would put a huge black mark on my career. Librarians don't stroll the streets painting graffiti, Tony."
"But you do."
"So I do." There was a long moment where we continued walking in silence. Megan pointed at the apartment complex ahead, and soon enough we were at her front door.
"Well, here we are." She pulled out her keys and unlocked the door. "I guess this is where we part."
"Yep," I agreed. "I'll, uh, see you later." She smiled and said, "See if you can stop by tomorrow, I'd like to see you again."
"Will do," I said. As I started to head towards the exit, I stopped myself. "Oh, before I forget..."
"What?" She leaned against the door for support.
"Don't ever stop painting. No matter what anyone says or does to your artwork. Don't let them stop you from being you, alright? You're one of the most brilliant people I have ever met. Oh, and put some ice on your ankle. It'll help."
"Thank you," I thought I saw tears forming in her eyes. "I mean it. Thank you so much." And as she closed the door, I felt another one open.
Aw, this story got cuter than I thought it would. It's pretty late, but technically not tomorrow since it's 11:58. Nailing that time constraint, aren't I? Can't wait for tomorrow's prompt!
ns 15.158.61.17da2
