I hate cities and this one was no different, dingy and grey. The crowds of people, far too many and far too close, were as washed-out and lifeless as the cold concrete.
I passed a pavilion filled with sterile art. I steamed by, dismissive until I noticed.
Bright colors of nature in the form of traditional Japanese art.
I caught my breath.
The artist was painting a new scene, fresh as a spring day.
“How…?” I pointed.
“Beauty is not out there; it is in here.” He touched his heart.
Print in hand, I explored the beautiful city.
word count = 100
I don’t remember when I last participated in Friday Fictioneers. It was a busy December! I hope to be able to start back up again :)