The stream of people was unending, or so it seemed to Mihir, the gallery owner.
Ayesha’s work was vibrant, stark and beautiful. The riotous colours on the canvas leapt out of the frames and beckoned to the viewers, who stood there in awe, drinking in the mesmerising splash of acrylic colours.
The artist herself was there, standing before a painting of a woman, one in silhouette, her face turned away from the viewer, masking any emotion or expression.
A tiny part of Ayesha wished that she could see the work that she had crafted with her hands, the work that the public was lauding all around her, but the sheath of eternal darkness separated her from her desire.
Written for Five Sentence Fiction's Prompt: Darkness
I am a Write Tribe Pro Blogger– Blogging everyday for a year.
Today is Day 36
Also linking this to Day 5 of the Ultra Blog Challenge