Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
The old man sat in the garden, cloaked in thick blankets. The cool afternoon air was tempered by a beaming sun which heated his back and warmed his lungs. He liked coming to this garden. It was peaceful and secluded and gave him a chance to reflect.
There was another reason he enjoyed it here. She visited him. With her pixie hair and wings aflutter, she’d swoop down and then sit; attentively listening to his stories or to the silence. She certainly made for good company.
He’d once shared stories about his encounters with the fairy, but soon became the wiser. Those he’d shared with had laughed and muttered something about dementia. No sense in ruining a good thing, he thought. Some secrets are best kept to oneself anyway.