Paint Stains in the Sun
by Vyasar Ganesan
They dried up fast. Then they cracked. Then, they started changing colors. Finally, they just blew away, one particle at a time, little flecks of the once famous splotches.
The paint came from a car that was being touched up, a thousand old buildings getting a thousand fantastic makeovers, an angry husband tossing out a lover’s easel, and a small girl making a futuristic mural.
The sun came from space. It was sort of there to begin with, but then it became coherent.
The two never actually sat down and had a chat, but sort of met at a crossroads. It seems like things on the sidewalk always come to crossroads. The sun acted at a distance on the stain. The stain reflected that action to the world.
Now, should a wrathful wind whip through the streets, the stains would lift themselves off the sidewalk, and spread their wings, like some majestic bird. Or, they could unfold into some beautiful insect, emerging from a cocoon to give the world a work of art that came from the mistakes of many hands. Or they just might tear to pieces, and hit someone’s car.
Vyasar Ganesan is an English major at Allegheny College, in Meadville, PA. He currently resides in Austin, TX, with his extended family. Vyasar has written book reviews for “Alors, Et Toi?”, an electronic journal of the arts, and is a member of the online writers community, Editred.com. He enjoys physics, ceramics, well-made food, and friends. Contact Vyasar.
