The Painting

It was 11PM and the soft sounds of people working were fading as I walked to the locker rooms to receive my belongings. I was bone tired, fingers and back sore from lifting boxes all day. I looked down at my hands, they were ashy and kind of dirty. 'I should wash my hands..,' I thought to myself. I walked over to a sink not too far from my locker and squeezed the highly scented soap into my hands, lathering up the soap and watching the murky water go down the drain. I got caught in a daze of thoughts, watching the water swirling down. I was tired of this job, the mundane day to day, each day being the same like I was on autopilot or a well oiled machine with only one purpose. The feeling encompassed me, making me feel almost overwhelmed with the idea that this is how I lived. I shook the feeling off, telling myself, "You'll be fine" and turned off the sink. I quickly put on my coat and grabbed my bag, just wanting to get home and get into my warm bed. As I stepped outside, the cold brisk wind slapped my entire body. It was colder than I had expected, further dimming my mood and increasing my eagerness to get home. I waited for the bus, the wind still hitting me and spinning around me. I was freezing and this bus was certainly delayed because it had been scheduled to arrive at 11:15 and it was already 11:35. I stood there angrily, feelings still building up like a kettle on an open flame. Just when I felt ready to call a cab, the bus pulled up at 11:50. "Hello there!," said the bus driver as he let me onto the warm bus. I grumbled a lowly hello, still upset he took so long. The driver stalled there a bit, waiting for others who got off at 12. A few people started walking towards and piling in. Faces of tiredness from a hard day of work at the warehouse. The bus pulled off and softly began to rock me to sleep. My eyes felt heavy and my head was bobbing up and down, trying to stay awake and alert of when my stop was coming. I shook my body just a little, trying to invoke a feeling of energy; that didn't seem to help though because soon after I was waking up on an empty bus. I jolted up scared that I missed my stop, frantically looking outside. I sighed in relief to see I was close to my stop but hadn't passed it. I grabbed my bag off the seat to prep to get off at the next stop. As I did this, I saw a little black book underneath the seat beside me. I don't know why but I felt compelled to pick it up, so I did. It seemingly was old, with a worn out, scuffed leather cover. I flipped through it to see it was empty, until I got to a middle page. Written on that page was an address. I flipped further to see if there was anything else within the book but there wasn't, just that address. My stop had come and I quickly darted off the bus, into the cold. Luckily my apartment was only a block away. I put my keys into the door and stepped inside of my warm apartment. It was quiet and dark, no one to greet me, just me. I flicked on the lights and took off my shoes, just ready to take a hot shower but the book in my hand intrigued me. What was this address? Why was that the only thing written? I further examined the book to see if there was anything else on or inside it. Nothing, nothing at all. I put the tiny black book inside the pocket to my coat and headed to the shower. After my shower I laid in bed, tossing and turning. I couldn't get this book off my mind for some reason. It was something so normal yet so odd. It was just exciting enough to add a difference into the stagnant life I was living. I soon drifted off, too tired to think about anything at all but the peace of sleep.

My alarm went off at 12PM, waking me up 2 hours before my shift. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to fix my bed head and went into the kitchen to make myself some coffee. I sat in silence, drinking my coffee and eating some toast, scrolling through my newsfeed as I did every morning. I relished in my routine until the thought of the book creeped back into my mind. Now that I wasn't so tired I could think more clearly. Why was that address smack in the middle of that book? Where was this address? I got up and got the book out my pocket. I flipped to the page with the address and studied it more. It was within my state, matter of fact it was only two towns over. That intrigued me further, making me wonder who had left it. I looked at the time and nearly an hour had passed. I quickly got ready for work and sped out the door, stuffing the tiny black book into my pocket.

Upon arrival at work, I was met by the head of my division in the warehouse. "Hey buddy.. before you get settled in, uh, we have to lay you off. We haven't been doing so well, I'm really sorry," he said. I felt a pit in my chest start to form as I cleared out my locker. It wasn't fair. I worked just as hard as anyone there and I was the one selected!? I threw my coat off angrily and heard a soft slap of something hitting the floor. The tiny black book. I picked it up and looked at that address. 'Maybe someone was missing this book,' I had thought. I quickly got out of the warehouse and onto the bus two towns over to where this address was. I felt kind of silly going, but what did I have to do today? Nothing at all. I was out of a job and had no one at home to even listen to that frustration, so I went to the address. I stepped off the bus, looking around at the nice quiet block I had entered. It had such a warm aura, elderly couples walking hand and hand, small shops with happy faces; it seemed like a dream. I walked a block to the address and was faced with a brick building that looked like a studio that doubled as a home. It looked abandoned. I felt a rush of disappointment that I came all this way for an abandoned building until a beautiful woman, about my age, came waltzing out. I paused, unsure what to say to her. She noticed me standing there and staring at the building and her all at once. "Hello there," she said in the sweetest voice. "Oh um hello," I said, snapping out of my daze. She stared at me as if she was waiting for me to say something. "I um, I found this tiny black book with this address written in it and thought…," my voice trailed off, embarrassed, realizing how silly it sounded. She softly smiled. "Why don't you come in?," she asked, opening the door and gesturing for me to come in. I walked into the warm building to be greeted by the most amazing thing I've ever seen. Art, art of beautiful people, with beautiful smiles. They looked so real, I felt as if they were genuinely smiling at me. The women smiled at my look of awe. "My father painted these, he has passed away and I thought I'd take some of his work from his home before I go back down state," she said. I looked at her feeling as if I was intruding on an intimate moment. "Oh, I am so sorry, I should go," I said reaching my hand out to give her the tiny black book. She smiled, looking down at the book, not taking it. I withdrew my hand. "What brings you here?," she asked. I paused. "I, I lost my job today and I found this book on the bus...and I thought maybe…," I said, truly uncertain what I was doing there. "I think I know why you're here," she said walking over to another part of the room. She came back with the most beautiful portrait, it was of a beautiful woman that resembled her. She handed it to me in exchange for the book. "I can't possibly take this," I said astonished and nervous all at once. She chuckled. "Look at all the art I have, please, take one and do as you see fit,"she said smiling. After that we parted ways, her filling her car with many paintings and me leaving with that one. It was such a weird circumstance but she made me feel so comfortable. When I got home I placed the painting on my wall, ate some dinner and went to bed, not even thinking about my lost job but of the women, the little black book and the painting.

A week had passed and I still had no job and rent was almost due. I was definitely panicked and didn't know what to do. I did my regular routine of coffee, toast and my news. As I scrolled down my newsfeed, I saw an article with an image of...the painting on my wall! I quickly read it and saw that art collectors of our large local museum was looking for it because apparently they were doing an exhibit on a very famous artist who had just passed and it was one of his famous pieces. My heart raced as I read that. I scrambled to get dressed and carefully conceal the painting and got down to the museum. I quickly asked to speak with someone about a painting. I was ushered into a private office where a man sat behind a desk. The excitement coursed through my veins as I unveiled the artwork. His eyes grew wide with disbelief. He then called many people into the room to examine it and they all agreed it was the real deal. "How much?," they asked. The question struck me like a ton of bricks. Money?! I was going to get money?! I cleared my throat. I could tell they could sense I had no idea what I actually had in my hands. "How about 100,000 dollars?," they asked. I felt almost dizzy at the amount. That was how much I could make in 2 years! "Yes, that'll do fine," I said, trying to sound confident. They wrote the check right there and then. I shakily took the check and left immediately to the bank, afraid this was a dream I was going to wake up from any moment. That whole week was just pure anxiety, especially with the rent due by the end of the week, but later that week I got a notification from my bank. It read, "Bank balance: 100,050.73", my heart raced and I jumped around and howled in excitement. I went to the bank and took out 1,500 for rent, went to my landlords door, paid him and told him I was leaving. I packed my bags, thinking about my life, the women, the art, that tiny black book. Maybe my life wasn't so mundane after all.