A Work of Art
Chapter: 1
Boredom
Well here's another new fic I have come up with now that my mind seems to be running on overdrive again. Hope you enjoy.
'Can things get anymore boring and tedious as this,' Zelgadis thought as he continued to type in integers in the program he was making. 'You would think they would give me something interesting to do but no I'm stuck programming accounting software,' Zel thought sarcastically as he continued. After about another hour he had finished the program and saw that it was quitting time. He sighed at the time and picked up his jacket as he made his way towards the door. He walked into the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor. Right as the doors were closing he heard someone shout, "Hold the elevator."
He held the door and allowed the group of young men onto the elevator and when one of them saw him he commented, "Hey, Greywords. How ya been? What bullshit assignment they got you working on?"
"Accounting software," mumbled Zelgadis as he leaned against the back wall with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Oh man that has to suck. Hey you look like you could use some R and R you want join us tonight," offered the young man Zel knew as Martin.
"No thanks," Zelgadis barely whispered as the doors opened and he walked out his jacket slung over his shoulder as he exited the building.
The group of men where just left staring at the back of the reclusive Zelgadis Greywords.
After getting out of the office and down the street Zelgadis sighed while he continued to walk towards his home. 'Nothing is ever different. Same old boring life, same boring job, and same boring and foolish people,' Zelgadis thought as he continued to walk without truly paying attention to what was around him. Why should he bother to him everything was always the same and always boring. Just as he was about to cross the street he heard the boom of thunder over his head. He looked up just in time to be hit with a downpour of rain. All of a sudden a sharp wind came through the streets and the rain came with it quickly. The storm was already bad and felt like it was getting worse. Zelgadis looked around quickly and found a store right next to him that had a sign saying open. He quickly walked in and shut the door behind him so the storm wouldn't follow into his new found sanctuary. He looked around to see this was some kind of antiques shop. It had old looking chairs and chests with all sorts of other bobbles on shelves. He didn't see anyone running the store so he just began to look around until the attendant came back. He pick through odds and ins not seeing much that interested him. He soon found his way into a back corner of the store that held paintings. He found himself drawn to these. These paintings were all beautiful in their own way, but one stood out to him. It was a painting of a grassy field with a backdrop to a lake. It had the sun setting in the final background and the paintings color mixing of greens, oranges, and blues. He marveled at the painting, feeling like he was being sucked in, when he heard, "So ya like good art do ya?"
Zelgadis turned around to be met by a stooped over old man with a walking stick in hand. His glasses rested at the end of his nose and he placed them back on his eyes to look up at Zelgadis. He then said, "Hmm, I've never seen you in here before sonny."
"Because I don't come in here I'm only here because of the storm," Zelgadis replied as he pointed outside where the storm still ragged on.
"Ah, yes. Odd weather we are having today. I mean none of those weather men saw this coming and it just came up in an instant," the old man speculated as he sat in an old rocking chair.
Zelgadis stood for a moment before asking, "Mine if I sit down...It looks like it might be a while before I get out of here."
"Sure, sure young man have a sit. It's not everyday I have company," the old man chuckled as he motioned towards another rocking chair.
Zelgadis took his seat and began to rock as he thought to himself. He was soon brought out of it when the man asked, "So what do ya do for a living sonny?"
"I work with computers," Zelgadis answered bluntly.
"Ah, that seems to be a good craft to have nowadays," replied the old man and then asked, "So how's your work going?"
Zelgadis sighed and answered dully, "It's boring the life out of me. In fact life is boring the life out of me. Nothing ever seems to change, it's just the same routine everyday."
The old man rubbed his chin for a moment and then said, "Well I'm no magic worker but they said certain herbal teas can help the feeling of boredom."
Zelgadis chuckled slightly, "Hasn't worked yet. I don't know I just need to find something to spice up my life a little bit."
The old man resumed his thinking pose for a few moments before snapping her fingers. He then got up and made his way towards the back corner while saying, "Well this won't fix it right away but how about some of these paintings to brighten your home?"
Zelgadis got up and looked before answering, "Well, I can probably only afford one."
"Two for the price of one my boy. You kept me company so I'll do a favor for you. Pick out any two ya want," answered the old man as he positioned all the paintings.
Zelgadis automatically went to the field painting and said, "This one...and what's under here," as he pointed to a painting that was covered by a tarp.
The old man pulled the tarp off to reveal a painting of a beautiful red headed woman. Her soft looking white skin contrasted well against the bright red of her hair. Her eyes held a playful look that seemed to gaze right into one's soul. Her full red lips carried a smile of mischief that would make one shiver in worry. Zelgadis couldn't help but stare at the painting in wonder. Everything he would find beautiful in a woman was present in the painting before him. He was soon brought back to reality by the old man saying, "Yes, this was my mother's favorite painting."
"So this belonged to your family," Zelgadis asked while still examining the painting.
"Yes, my mother bought it at an auction when I was just a youngin'. Strangest thing though is the last owners told us that we needed to cover it up every night or we'd never get any sleep," the old man explained.
"Don't tell me you believed that...I mean who would want to cover up such a thing of beauty," Zelgadis asked.
"Well we didn't believe it either and my mother made the same point. But, after mother died years later, my father one day just covered up the painting and stored it away claiming it was cursed," the old man said in a kind of chiding manner.
"Well I don't believe in such silly superstitions," Zelgadis replied and then said, "I'll take those two."
"Ah a good choice my boy. And, I guess I don't need to warn you about covering her up at night then," the old man said jokingly.
Zelgadis actually chuckled as he said, "No you won't now how much do I owe you?"
"That would come out to forty dollars my friend," the old man replied as he rang it up in the cash register.
"Done and done," Zelgadis said as he paid the man and wrapped both of the paintings in the tarp as he looked out the window.
Outside the storm had let up and he turned to the old man saying, "Well I need to be going. But, I'll be sure to visit you again sometime."
"I'd enjoy that sonny and I might have some new paintings by then," the old man replied cheerfully.
"See you," Zelgadis said as he waved to the man and walked out onto the street and towards his apartment.
Zelgadis unlocked the door to his apartment as he carefully carried the paintings into the living room. He laid the painting down on the small coffee table and then unwrapped them. He then retrieved a hammer and nails he had just in case something happened. He then proceeded to hang the field painting in his bedroom. After finishing there he went back to the living room and decided that the woman's painting would look perfect above the coach. He moved the next nail into his hand as he positioned the painting above the coach. After he finished he stood back and admired the painting for a moment. After a few minutes he looked to the clock to see that he was quite behind schedule. He sighed and then commented, "Now to see what I can whip up to eat before I have to get to bed," as he walked into the kitchen, leaving the painting to hang over his coach.
Disclaimer: Any characters or ideas from The Slayers do not belong to me. I am not selling this material, just writing for the heck of it as I go.
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