There were drops of every color of paint on the floorboards that creaked under her feet. The old wood showed the true meaning behind her art. She’d once thought to rip it up, board by board, and frame it. Now, as she stood back and looked at the piece she had just completed, she started to smile slowly. The painting was a mix of bright colors and when she unfocused her eyes, she could just make out the memory in her head. She was spun back in time to a place full of sights and sounds. Large trees hung overhead, leaves blew in the warm wind. The laughter of children could be heard, and the scent of spices and home filled her nose. Hearing a fog horn bellow in the distance brought her back to the present. She looked around the large room that had been her sanctuary for the last two years. The large windows overlooked the New York harbor. The loft was one of the most expensive in the waterfront building. She’d worked hard for the comforts she had, and she paid dearly to get where she was.
