Deep Red Eyes

Kent stood in the foyer. Across from him was a large painting hanging on the wall sandwiched between two curving staircases leading up to the landing of the second floor. He stood there gazing at the picture. First he surveyed the frame, it was a single solid piece of walnut with Celtic designs etched in gold and dark green running around the edges he did not understand the design nor the meaning behind it, yet he had to admit that it was appealing to his sight. The painting itself seemed to be a single sheet of velvet stretched taught. He looked towards the center of the picture to see that it depicted a woman sitting in a rocking chair. She was beautiful, youngish he guessed around mid-thirties, and it was hard to tell but using the rocker as a scale he put her at, probably, around five-foot-nine and one-hundred twenty pounds. Next he took in her attire, she was dressed in an ankle-length black dress with a dark red, crimson maybe, lace trim. Her long pure white hair flowed over her shoulders but did not obscure her face, he found it oddly attractive paired with her young features. Her expression was one of sorrow, artfully exemplified by the arch of her brow and the tilt of her perfect thin lips. But there was something deeper there. Kent continued to study the painting hoping to understand what else it was he was seeing. Was it something in those dark red eyes? Perhaps, but alas he would not solve the mystery today.

Kent proceeded to the kitchen dressed in his bathrobe. He loved the early mornings and this one was special, it was the first morning after his first night in his brand new mansion. Kent began to make eggs in a basket, bacon, and a mango protein shake. Having finished he went about his normal morning routine until it was time for him to leave for work. First to his wardrobe to pick out a suit for the day, only a few were here as he had not fully moved in. Turquoise, maroon, ochre, and chartreuse. Today he felt flashy and so he donned his chartreuse suit. He next spent a few moments on his veranda staring out at his surroundings before heading back inside to prepare a lunch to take with him to work. As he was headed out he paused in the foyer and looked again at the painting. Intrigue? No that couldn’t be it, what was it? He shook his head in frustration and left.

Kent stood in the foyer. He stared at the picture across from him. The walnut frame with its intricate patterns swirling across, veritably dancing in the right light. The taught velvet stretched inside holding the depiction of a woman. The beautiful woman in her mid-thirties. Her long white hair flowing over her shoulders creating a startling contrast with her long black gown with its blood red lace trim. Her expression of sorrow, so powerful as to be enchanting. There was something else there however. Was it in the curve of her sad smile; or in those big, beautiful, deep, dark red eyes? He could not figure it out.

Kent continued on with his morning. Dressed in his bathrobe he made himself eggs in a basket, bacon, and a mango protein shake. Today he felt like turquoise, bright but not flamboyant. He once again stood on the veranda staring out at his surroundings. The house was set in the middle of a large field, full of knee high grass and the color of burnt gold. After he finished admiring the scenery he headed inside to prepare lunch before leaving. As he was leaving for work he paused in the foyer. He looked back at the picture of the woman. Boredom? No that wasn’t it either, what could it be? He shrugged to himself in mild irritation and left.

Kent stood in the foyer staring at the picture. The golden runes seemed to be more prominent today practically leaping across the room, flinging themselves into his eyes, into his very soul. He gazed at the woman in the picture. Her hands artfully folded across her lap. Dressed in a long black dress with bright red lace trim. Her fiery red hair pulled back in a long ponytail. Her sorrowful expression. But there was something else, what was it? Something the set of her jaw? Or something hidden in those deep dark red eyes? Not today, would this mystery be solved.

He proceeded on with his morning routine. Dressed in nothing but silk boxers he made himself a breakfast of eggs in a basket, bacon, and a papaya protein shake. He went upstairs and as he was getting dressed, this time in the ochre suit, he stopped to look at himself. He was a tall man at approximately six-foot-three and one half. The one-half was important to him, as were all seemingly unimportant details. Despite being in his early forties his unusually good looking features often had people mistake him for still being in his mid thirties. Having finished this odd moment of narcissism he started to don his suit. Upon finishing getting dressed he headed outside to take it all in, finally coming in to make lunch. Having finished getting ready for work, he paused in the foyer to look at the painting before leaving. Anticipation? How could it be? No, it must be something else. He left with a sigh and a grimace.

Kent stood in the foyer. He stared at the picture across from him. The deep forest green celtics runes swirled around the edge of the walnut frame. The woman in the picture, painted on the taut velvet, was standing next to a rocking chair. Her long black hair was flowing over her shoulders. She was gazing sorrowfully off into the distance. But there was a hint of something else there. What was it? Was that a glimmer of a smile drawn into those perfect sad lips? Was it an amused arch in her brow? No, no. Was it something deep within those dark red eyes? He wasn’t likely to figure it out today.

Kent continued with his morning. Dressed in his silky boxers he made breakfast. It consisted of eggs in a basket, bacon, and a kiwi protein shake. He then readied himself for work. As usual he paused in the foyer just before leaving to look back at the painting. Eureka! He figured it out it was so obvious now her expression was one of elation. She smiled at him and the edges of the picture frame glowed intensely. With a wide grin that revealed unnaturally pointed teeth, she kicked the chair away from her, her raven hair billowed around her and she laughed as she flung herself from the picture at him.

There was no one to hear Kent’s screams as he was savaged. His last thought was ‘I forgot to blow out the candle in the window.’

Deidre stood in the foyer. Across from her was a large painting hanging on the wall sandwiched between two curving staircases leading up to the landing of the second floor. She stood there gazing at the picture. The frame was a single solid piece of walnut with Celtic designs etched in gold and dark green running around the edges. The painting itself seemed to be a single sheet of velvet stretched tight. It depicted a man standing in a field. He was beautiful, youngish probably mid-thirties, and it was hard to tell but using the field as a scale probably around six-foot-three and two-hundred and ten pounds. He was dressed in a five piece deep maroon suit. His long pure white hair was pulled back in a single ponytail. His expression was one of sorrow, artfully exemplified by the arch of his brow and the tilt of his perfect large lips. But there was something deeper there. Deidre continued to study the painting hoping to understand what else it was she was seeing. Was it something in those dark red eyes? Perhaps, but alas she would not solve the mystery today.

Deidre proceeded to the kitchen dressed in her bathrobe. She loved the early mornings and this one was special, it was the first morning after her first night in her brand new mansion. Deidre began to make eggs in a basket, bacon, and a mango protein shake. Having finished she went about her normal morning routine until it was time for her to leave for work. As she was headed out she paused in the foyer and looked again at the painting. Intrigue? No that couldn’t be it, what was it? She shook her head in frustration and left.