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Authors: Dorina Stanciu
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concealing it, had blown the other woman's long curls back, uncovering her angelic visage. The kiss appeared vividly reproduced, in colors and nuances that created a permanent mobility. The features of the exposed face seemed to change under the influence of the sexual impulse.
Vivien realized instantly that the woman made more visible in the painting resembled someone known. It took her milliseconds to attach a name to that fascinating image: Nadine, contoured in brilliant brush strokes that revealed even more than talent on the painter’s side. The artist seemed to have been in love with her while he had reproduced her face and her delicate forms with such passion and candor. Nadine’s sensual lover in the painting could not have been anyone else but Mademoiselle Lili, judging from the rebel hairdo, the small part of the face perceived by the viewer’s eye, and the heavy piece of jewelry that embellished her fine ankle.
Complicated questions that had been begging for answers in her childhood mind, forgotten questions buried deeply in time until that very moment… they all capitulated finally. All of a sudden, those irritating questions, that had deprived her of sleep so many nights, were helpless, defeated by the reality that insisted to be accepted. Bits of the past whirled into Vivien’s mind: Nadine - Mademoiselle Lili’s favorite student, Nadine’s sexy picture in a fancy frame on Mademoiselle Lili’s vanity table, Nadine at Lili’s house just before her scheduled wedding with Tee…
Vivien got up and walked with unsure steps into the kitchen. The earlier spark of an appetite had vanished. She inferred that she would have a long night. She made herself a chamomile tea, had a hot bath, and then, she sat at the piano with the vast collection of Beethoven’s music before her.
* * *
Timothy Leigh could not forgive himself for giving in to such a rich dinner. For a few minutes, he navigated absently from one channel to another, only to turn off the TV set in the end. Even though he was bored to death at the moment, he savored his privacy. It was a nice change after the noisy company of his brother anyway! Clark would not stop talking, and he generously advised in all matters. He has an answer for everything, Timothy smiled inwardly, wondering what in the world had brought Clark to California this time. Most certainly, not the desire to see me or visit the grave of our mother. It was something else, but so far, Timothy had not been able to identify the actual reason of his visit. Out of the blue that evening, his brother had decided to stay at a hotel for the rest of his vacation.
“Bloody hell, mate, you need some privacy. I don’t want to impose,” he had pretended.
Timothy had not insisted. He knew damn well that he could not influence Clark in any way. Nobody ever had! When his brother made a decision, it was a waste of time to try to make him change his mind. I would’ve talked in vain. He’s as stubborn as a mule , Timothy reflected. Sometimes, he couldn’t wait to see Clark leave. Very often, he missed him, but his presence annoyed him. Clark was disorganized, he didn’t show respect to anyone and anything, and he acted as if he were permanently chasing phantoms. Not to mention his odd attitude toward women, an issue that created a real abyss between the two of them.
Tim othy grabbed his coat and scarf. He put on his cashmere hat and pulled it onto his ears. Dead set to burn some calories and ease his digestion, he stepped out of the house into the night’s frigid air. He reckoned that a stroll on the city’s deserted streets would also drive his sadness away. He felt lonely. He could have found a woman to warm up his bed and soothe
Vivien realized instantly that the woman made more visible in the painting resembled someone known. It took her milliseconds to attach a name to that fascinating image: Nadine, contoured in brilliant brush strokes that revealed even more than talent on the painter’s side. The artist seemed to have been in love with her while he had reproduced her face and her delicate forms with such passion and candor. Nadine’s sensual lover in the painting could not have been anyone else but Mademoiselle Lili, judging from the rebel hairdo, the small part of the face perceived by the viewer’s eye, and the heavy piece of jewelry that embellished her fine ankle.
Complicated questions that had been begging for answers in her childhood mind, forgotten questions buried deeply in time until that very moment… they all capitulated finally. All of a sudden, those irritating questions, that had deprived her of sleep so many nights, were helpless, defeated by the reality that insisted to be accepted. Bits of the past whirled into Vivien’s mind: Nadine - Mademoiselle Lili’s favorite student, Nadine’s sexy picture in a fancy frame on Mademoiselle Lili’s vanity table, Nadine at Lili’s house just before her scheduled wedding with Tee…
Vivien got up and walked with unsure steps into the kitchen. The earlier spark of an appetite had vanished. She inferred that she would have a long night. She made herself a chamomile tea, had a hot bath, and then, she sat at the piano with the vast collection of Beethoven’s music before her.
* * *
Timothy Leigh could not forgive himself for giving in to such a rich dinner. For a few minutes, he navigated absently from one channel to another, only to turn off the TV set in the end. Even though he was bored to death at the moment, he savored his privacy. It was a nice change after the noisy company of his brother anyway! Clark would not stop talking, and he generously advised in all matters. He has an answer for everything, Timothy smiled inwardly, wondering what in the world had brought Clark to California this time. Most certainly, not the desire to see me or visit the grave of our mother. It was something else, but so far, Timothy had not been able to identify the actual reason of his visit. Out of the blue that evening, his brother had decided to stay at a hotel for the rest of his vacation.
“Bloody hell, mate, you need some privacy. I don’t want to impose,” he had pretended.
Timothy had not insisted. He knew damn well that he could not influence Clark in any way. Nobody ever had! When his brother made a decision, it was a waste of time to try to make him change his mind. I would’ve talked in vain. He’s as stubborn as a mule , Timothy reflected. Sometimes, he couldn’t wait to see Clark leave. Very often, he missed him, but his presence annoyed him. Clark was disorganized, he didn’t show respect to anyone and anything, and he acted as if he were permanently chasing phantoms. Not to mention his odd attitude toward women, an issue that created a real abyss between the two of them.
Tim othy grabbed his coat and scarf. He put on his cashmere hat and pulled it onto his ears. Dead set to burn some calories and ease his digestion, he stepped out of the house into the night’s frigid air. He reckoned that a stroll on the city’s deserted streets would also drive his sadness away. He felt lonely. He could have found a woman to warm up his bed and soothe
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