Get the picture?

"Defeat is not the worst of failures. Not to have tried is the true failure."

 George E Woodberry

Welcome to this blog about short stories. Lately I have been diving in the writing sea, I know I’m not that good a swimmer to start with; I have so much to learn. With my French background and inexperience I think the best thing to do is to practice. Hopefully my shorts stories would entertained you. As I will take them to fine tune my style, I will appreciate any comments,

I am retired so this will be as a hobby for now, who knows what the future would be?

Get the picture?

Hi my name is Paul Peterson; I am a well-known painter. If you know anything about art, you have heard of me, I sign my paintings with PP2. It started as a joke because I used to tell people I was Pablo Picasso too. The name stuck and all my paintings have been signed PP2 ever since.

I own a house complete with a studio facing the sea. Talk about inspiration!

It is isolated, only my wife Diane and I for miles and miles.

Two years ago, I was in my studio brushing on the last touch up on a painting. I had used the magnificent view from my window as the background for this masterpiece.  I had added a sail boat out on the sea, lots of shadows from a fog rolling in.

I was really proud with my new chef d’oeuvre. As a routine, when I’m satisfied of my work, I go and walk for a few hours on the beach.

It was a sunny day and because my eyes are really sensitive to sunrays I have to wear blue tinted glasses.

When I returned home, still wearing my glasses I proudly looked at my painting. What a shock I got! On the beach, there was a body, from its un-natural pose; you could tell it was a dead person! I quickly removed my glasses and took a closer look at the painting. All I could see was the beach with the shadows. I put the glasses back on, the body re-appeared!

The glasses were like a filter. Incredible! It was so real I even looked outside at the beach. There was no dead body! I went outside, walked to the exact spot, still no body, to my relief there was just sand.

Back in the studio I looked at the painting.  There seemed to be more shadows than I remember painting. I put my glasses on and I saw in capital letters: ‘’YOU KILLED YOUR WIFE!’’

My wife was out on some errands. I couldn’t wait for her return to show her the painting. What would she think? Would she see the same things I saw? I kept asking myself.

She was late coming back; I was more and more concerned with each minute she was away. I called her on her cell to confirm at what time she would be back. She didn’t answer on the first ring, she didn’t answer on the second ring, and then her voice mail came on.

I left her a message: “Diane it’s me, could you call back as soon you get this?”.

She is never late for supper but that day, she was still missing.  

In the meantime I went to the garage to get some cleaner for my paint brushes. I opened the door and HER car was there… what was going on? I searched the whole house, I went outside and searched the beach again, I looked everywhere I thought she could possibly be, I couldn’t find her.

Out of desperation, I called the cops. It took them an hour to show up and I explained that my wife was missing and I showed them the car.

Just between you and I, I didn’t show them the “special effect” on the painting. They did notice the painting in my studio, and even complimented it.  Needless to say I kept my blue tinted glasses away from them. Just think about it, in cases of a missing person, the first one to be suspected is the spouse, right?

They interrogated me for hours; I had nothing to hide. They searched everywhere I had already searched, NOTHING either! What a waste of time those clowns were.

Our story made the front page news for weeks, and suddenly it was no longer newsworthy.

It took me 6 months to get back to my brushes.  After a few more paintings I had to quit.  In every painting I created ever since, my wife’s body was always showing up in the shadows.