This time, my dark-haired friend appeared miserable, in pain.
I stood at the top of the stairs, wanting to reach out to him, but I couldn’t. My dark-haired friend knelt in front of the window across the room, staring up at the stars hopelessly.
His gaze wandered to a picture on the desk next to him, and he began to sob. He picked up the photo, clutched it to his chest, and doubled over with a cry of anguish. I wanted so badly to hold him, to tell him that he would be okay. But I couldn’t get any closer, no matter how much I tried.
I could see the images in his head, the beautiful blonde with the petite frame, a kiss, a ring, and a coffin. Nothing more. He pounded on his chest, trying to kill the ache in his heart. I could do nothing but watch his agony.
When I woke, my pulse raced and my head spun, making me feel only half-awake. Reluctantly, I got up and readied myself for a long day of work.
Since my photography instructor knew I was in charge of the art show, he didn’t expect me in class all week. Though I’d have more time for my task, photography was also my only time with Cooper. He always went home for lunch, and I didn’t look forward to going most of the week without seeing him, despite Hope’s opinions on our relationship.
I tried to shrug off my worries. There was far too much to do in preparation for the show. By the time I reached pottery, true to his word, Mr. Wellner had most of the students’ works ready for display, just waiting for my placement.
To my surprise, there were also wood items, writings, and song lyrics sitting on the counter. I’d figured it would take longer to get the other students’ work. A lot of people had hurried right along for me, and I felt thankful for their fast response.
Mr. Wellner already had the lights on and the kiln half loaded, but he had left the room. I set my stuff down and got to work right away.
All the large wood projects were already in the hallway, spaced roughly ten feet apart. At least I wouldn’t have to move anything heavy.
I surveyed the wood projects as I tried to determine which ones should stand alone, and which ones should hold other student’s artwork. After looking over them carefully, I realized just how much detail many of them had. Some featured walnut inlay. Some had a purple tint, like that of a plum. The scent of oak, pine, and cedar added a natural feeling to the art hall.
I headed back to the pottery room to gather some pieces. Right off the bat, a long purple vase squiggling back and forth caught my eye. That would be perfect for the shelf that had the purple inlay.
Also on the way, I spotted a blue rose made from broken glass. That would go nicely into the vase. Maybe this whole matching process wouldn’t be so difficult after all.
About fifteen minutes into my matching, Mr. Wellner finally returned.
“Hello, Aislinn, I see you’ve already started.” The corners of his lips rose, a sure sign he was pleased.
“Yes,” I acknowledged. “This is pretty fun.”
“You already have some stuff in the hall. Are you going to put the artists’ name and brief description of the piece with each item? Or do you want to put just the title of the piece, and list the artist and additional information in the pamphlet?”
I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. Putting the information with the piece would get distracting. There was too much paperwork and not enough room to display it.
“I think maybe the title and artist’s name with the piece, then in the pamphlet, the other information. That seems to be the best choice,” I replied.
“Agreed. Maybe for today, you can start placing the items. Then the last couple of days, you can get any extra information into a pamphlet. Just make sure to keep track of whose items are whose. Otherwise, you’ll run into trouble!” His chuckle under his statement led me to believe he’d done that himself at some point. I’d have to pay attention.
“Thanks for the advice. I’ll watch
I stood at the top of the stairs, wanting to reach out to him, but I couldn’t. My dark-haired friend knelt in front of the window across the room, staring up at the stars hopelessly.
His gaze wandered to a picture on the desk next to him, and he began to sob. He picked up the photo, clutched it to his chest, and doubled over with a cry of anguish. I wanted so badly to hold him, to tell him that he would be okay. But I couldn’t get any closer, no matter how much I tried.
I could see the images in his head, the beautiful blonde with the petite frame, a kiss, a ring, and a coffin. Nothing more. He pounded on his chest, trying to kill the ache in his heart. I could do nothing but watch his agony.
When I woke, my pulse raced and my head spun, making me feel only half-awake. Reluctantly, I got up and readied myself for a long day of work.
Since my photography instructor knew I was in charge of the art show, he didn’t expect me in class all week. Though I’d have more time for my task, photography was also my only time with Cooper. He always went home for lunch, and I didn’t look forward to going most of the week without seeing him, despite Hope’s opinions on our relationship.
I tried to shrug off my worries. There was far too much to do in preparation for the show. By the time I reached pottery, true to his word, Mr. Wellner had most of the students’ works ready for display, just waiting for my placement.
To my surprise, there were also wood items, writings, and song lyrics sitting on the counter. I’d figured it would take longer to get the other students’ work. A lot of people had hurried right along for me, and I felt thankful for their fast response.
Mr. Wellner already had the lights on and the kiln half loaded, but he had left the room. I set my stuff down and got to work right away.
All the large wood projects were already in the hallway, spaced roughly ten feet apart. At least I wouldn’t have to move anything heavy.
I surveyed the wood projects as I tried to determine which ones should stand alone, and which ones should hold other student’s artwork. After looking over them carefully, I realized just how much detail many of them had. Some featured walnut inlay. Some had a purple tint, like that of a plum. The scent of oak, pine, and cedar added a natural feeling to the art hall.
I headed back to the pottery room to gather some pieces. Right off the bat, a long purple vase squiggling back and forth caught my eye. That would be perfect for the shelf that had the purple inlay.
Also on the way, I spotted a blue rose made from broken glass. That would go nicely into the vase. Maybe this whole matching process wouldn’t be so difficult after all.
About fifteen minutes into my matching, Mr. Wellner finally returned.
“Hello, Aislinn, I see you’ve already started.” The corners of his lips rose, a sure sign he was pleased.
“Yes,” I acknowledged. “This is pretty fun.”
“You already have some stuff in the hall. Are you going to put the artists’ name and brief description of the piece with each item? Or do you want to put just the title of the piece, and list the artist and additional information in the pamphlet?”
I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. Putting the information with the piece would get distracting. There was too much paperwork and not enough room to display it.
“I think maybe the title and artist’s name with the piece, then in the pamphlet, the other information. That seems to be the best choice,” I replied.
“Agreed. Maybe for today, you can start placing the items. Then the last couple of days, you can get any extra information into a pamphlet. Just make sure to keep track of whose items are whose. Otherwise, you’ll run into trouble!” His chuckle under his statement led me to believe he’d done that himself at some point. I’d have to pay attention.
“Thanks for the advice. I’ll watch
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