*a soft thud as a piece of paper falls to the floor* Charlie gets out of his seat irritated. He looks at the crumpled paper sighs, walks past to pick his keys and slams the door behind him.
He stayed pretty close to the nature or should you say far from human existence. That’s how he wanted it to be when he first decided to move to a remote place like that.
He walks his way onto the pathway which was as beautiful as he left it this morning when he went out on his morning stroll. The nature was not what he needed he thought hitting his head. He needed an idea, he needed one at least by evening he thought looking at his watch it was already past mid day. But, before he could think any further his stomach grumbled. “Ah I haven’t eaten a decent meal since morning have I?” he thought to himself grabbing onto the shirt covering his stomach.
He walks to the only diner that was probably available in the vicinity. Because the area was so remote people often got to know each other on very familiar terms. As he walked into the diner George greeted him with a bright smile “The usual I assume?” Charlie replies “Yes! And the deadline is tomorrow. George am so done for this time I absolutely got nothing no ideas.” *dramatically drags the chair and sits down holding his head in his hands* George doesn’t respond to him and leaves.
After a couple of minutes he comes back with a full meal which includes pasta, fried veggies and a drink which was usually juice or beer unless there was something else that was served as a special that day. Charlie digs right into it not because he wants to but because his stomach says him to. He finishes the food leaving the drink for him to sip on while he scribbles on a piece of tissue paper with his pencil that he carries around in his pocket. George leaves him by himself and continues on with attending his other customers.
Charlie looks at the tissue crumples it and finishes his drink. He gets out of his seat in an attempt to leave but he turns back picks the crumpled tissue tucks it into his jacket pocket which is now lost with his keys, pencil, an eraser and a pair of glasses. He walks past to the counter pays his bill greets George and leaves the diner.
He continues his stroll from where he left off and starts thinking. What will he answer to his team,his manager they already told him how bad the whole idea was. Charlie knew the risk behind it and yet he wanted to take it because he was confident. He walks into the fields and sits in the middle of it. He starts playing with the hay in the field. Charlie always comes here to calm himself and collect his thoughts. Today he needed it more than any other time. He closes his eyes and breaths in the fresh air. He stays that way for a while and all of a sudden as if something had gotten into him.
He gets up runs out of the field rushes to reach his place. Struggles to find his keys in the giant jacket pocket of his. Finally manages to open the door, quickly picks up the paper that was standing there crumpled on the floor. Unwraps it to the best extent possible, and there it was the idea that he was looking for. He picks up his canvas and starts making a rough sketch of what he’s done on the paper. Yes, he was an artist who was struggling to paint his center piece for his first every gallery that was going to be opened the next day at 11 in the morning. And Charlie had for himself around 12-15 hours which was sufficient enough as he knew what goes where exactly.
Charlie worked his ass off on the canvas for the whole night. He had a grin on his face throughout the night despite the bags under his eyes. He finally puts his tools down looking at his canvas and taking a deep breath the smirk still not disappearing from his face. He was very pleased with the result and before he got too full of himself,he noticed that the sun was at its horizon. Charlie had a good view from his window and as he looked out he knew it was dawn already and his gallery was going to be on display in a matter of hours now.
He didn’t have time for luxuries like sleep because he was already late and he needed to get ready and also carry the canvas to the gallery which was another task to accomplish. He looked down at his feet, a complete mess. He bent down to pick up those two crumpled papers and held them and there came back the grin on his face. He held onto them set them on the only table he had at his place and continued to prep himself for the big day.
He got to the gallery on time and they were all set to open it up. Right before it was open Charlie placed his final piece in its place and wrote down the name card for it: CRUMPLED – Charlie . F , April 19XX
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