An Artist’s Desire.. Part – 1 The Lady in Black

An Artist’s Desire.. Part – 1 The Lady in Black

A Story by Christopher Paul

If I remember it correctly, it was those eyes. Those pearl shaped bright blue eyes that brought my attention to this beautiful lady sitting alone at the bar. There was something completely different about her. She wasn’t like the other women present there; like one beautiful diamond among other beautiful gems. I couldn’t get my eyes off her. There was something about the way she lifted that wine filled glass with such slow elegance like a queen, up to the tips of her soft red lips. The way the dark red wine flowed gently along the glass, passed her lips and into her mouth. The way her throat moved as the liquid went through. Something so beautifully exotic that my words can’t fully describe.

It was a thing of pure beauty. I should know, I sat with beautiful women everyday painting their pictures. Five long years as a renowned painter I had seen all the types of women that a man could ever think of. Form the graceful Queen Mary of England to the sensual beauties of the Amazon. I had seen them all but never had I seen such perfection at a random place like this. If only I had my paints and a canvas. There would be no preparation required. All I could have done was just draw. Capture this rare wonder on a canvas. It would have been my Mona Lisa, my ‘Lady in Black’.

It was all there; The way her dark hair with slight curls sat on her shoulders. Her magnificent blue eyes made even more prominent with the thin dark eyeliner surrounding them. Her visibly soft cheeks, her flawless skin with no make-up and her little nose as if they were sculptured by a professional. Her earrings, not calling for attention yet making your eyes fall upon her ears. Those red luscious devil-ish lips. Her neck with that diamond necklace, not too big not too small either, just right.

“Oh, if only I had a canvas”. From her neck onwards it was that beautiful black dress. The dress flowing perfectly with her well figured body. Every curve of her body, bold, mesmerizing, seductive. Her well-shaped arms with that bracelet on her wrist and red nail polish. From top to bottom, a perfect woman, beautiful, sensual, magnificent. An artist like me would travel the world to find someone of such beauty. Not just to paint a picture but to capture god’s beautiful creation on a canvas forever. She was truly an artist’s desire.

But then something happened, as I was hypnotized by her, her head turned, her lips moved and a smile was upon her face. A beautiful smile with pearl white, perfectly set teeth and a cute dimple appearing at the side of her lip on the left cheek. It wasn’t like any ordinary smile, there was something magical about it. Like your first kiss that makes your heart skip a beat. Like a sigh of relief when something you thought wrong turns out right. I don’t know why I’m saying all this; well I can’t remember what I was thinking at that moment. That smile froze me because she was looking at me.

I was faced with a decision, should I smile back or look away? Never had I ever been face with such a dilemma over such an easy choice to make, it was strange. Women have looked at me and smiled many times before and all I did was smile back. It wasn’t a hard decision to make. So why was I frozen still as she smiled at me. What was even more puzzling was that my heart beat got faster, my throat got parched and my tongue went dry. My hands were shaking. The sound of the people and jazz tunes playing in the background turned to silence. I could honestly hear my own heartbeat. It wasn’t like a beautiful woman was smiling at me but like a crowd of people walked in on me standing over a dead body with a bloody knife in my hand. It was nerve racking.

Sitting at the bar she looked away, at that moment I took a deep breath as I sipped the whiskey in my glass and tried to calm down but as I looked back at her, she was headed this way. Seeing her walk towards me a sort of nervous energy that ran through my body. It was a mix of nervousness and excitement. As she got closer my heart beat that I was trying to bring back to normal went back to beating like a speeding train. To this day I wonder if she noticed the waves I was causing in my glass because of the way my hand was shaking. Just a step away now the air around me changed to the smell of sweet vanilla and bergamot? What an intoxicating fragrance.

© 2016 Christopher Paul

Author's Note

Christopher Paul
This is just an intro to the first part. Tell me how you feel about it. Do ignore the grammar problems and or other mistakes.

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register

Share This
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Added on September 19, 2016
Last Updated on September 19, 2016


Christopher Paul
Christopher Paul

Kolkata, Salt Lake City, India