As promised, Pages of Pigments VI! Don't forget to enter the giveaway at the bottom of this post AND if you are writing this weekend go here and sign up for #MWWM Lots of you have told me you are in on Twitter, but not all of you have made it official.
It
was the swan from the painting. But it was someplace different. She
couldn't make out what it had been painted on. A rough paper or a
think crude canvas—she couldn't be sure. It's wooden frame was
splintered, and pulling apart in all the joints. It was so dark that
it was almost black. Lucia touched it with slow and careful
fingertips, wondering if it had always been that shade or if it had
aged with time.
The
swan that sat in the middle of the painting lay almost still. Gliding
so slow, you could almost believe it was an ordinary motionless
painting if not for the little waves that floated away from its
opalescent white feathers. The swan seemed content to sit there—if
not a little sad.
Only
in the corner of the painting where the frame was the most damaged,
it appeared that a large bit of surface of the lake had been
completely torn away. The tare was all jagged edges and paper teeth.
“That's
a shame,” William said, eyes taking in the same damage as Lucia.
It
was a shame, but Ripley didn't say anything at all. He just stood
stiff, staring at the painting until finally he mumbled something
Lucia didn't catch the first time.
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*hugs and kisses*
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