David Part I

Jane is a long-distance member of the Beanery Writers Group, an membership made possible by this, the beanerywriters blog at ProBlogs.com. Below is part one of a ten-part romance story she submitted to the blog. The remaining segments will be posted on this site each Wednesday evening for the next nine weeks. Segments will be stored on this blog under Jane's Writings. 

It started out being a cool fall day in October. I put on a wool coat with a sweater underneath. I could take the coat off if it got warmer. The weatherman had predicted sunshine, with a light wind. Getting in my car I finally had a destination in mind---a small art community in Canada with galleries in Victorian homes. It was a rather wealthy community. I can't imagine what it would cost to live there, but it cost nothing to admire the talents of the residents. It was just what I needed to clear my mind of the mindless work of the past week. God, I needed to clear my mind, and give "me" some space in it.
Driving into Canada I felt some guilt for all the work I was leaving behind me at home. The house needed to be prepared for winter. The usual weekend work needed to be done. What did I need to pick up at the supermarket on the way home?
Ah, but there they were, those Victorian homes and shops that were nothing like my real world. I gave myself over to their splendor. I had run across a brochure lately about a new gallery that had opened. What street was it on? I found a parking spot close to what I thought was the street and started my search. My God it was clean here! No garbage laying around, fall flowers kept neat. This walk was almost worth the trip itself.
I found the artist's gallery and went inside. I just knew I would like it after seeing some pictures of the work in the brochure. I was enthralled when I walked into one of the rooms. Her work reached inside me, grabbed me, and twirled me into another world. I found myself marveling at every brush stroke. And smiling. Was I actually smiling?
I moved on to the next painting and found it involved me as much as the first.
Suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder and it startled me. I know I jumped a little. I turned around and there was a sight that needed deeper looking! A very tall man with young skin and gray hair stood there. He was writing in a notepad. What the heck was he doing that for? He had a black eye patch over his left eye, and scars on his forehead.
He handed the notepad to me, and it read: "What fascinates you so about this painting?" If he had wanted to make an impression and fluster me, he certainly did. My response revealed how flustered I was. "Can you hear me?" He smiled and nodded yes, and then put his hand across his mouth. I should have been affronted, but instead I was thinking about what a strong chin he had.
"Who are you?" I asked.
He wrote again "David."
I noticed again the question he had written. "What fascinates you so about this painting?" I pointed to the question on the notepad. What a funny person, I thought, and then asked him "Why do you want to know about that?"
He looked at me with one penetrating blue eye, and took the pad back to write. He started writing and looked up at me again before he finished. He looked sad, and I thought about how amazing it is how much more your face can say when your voice is gone. He finished writing and handed me the note. It simply read: "Because, you fascinated me watching you study it."

CLICK BACK on this blog next Wednesday for David   Part II