Altered Perspective

Chapter Three

There is little comfort to be found in November, bar the fake joviality of the approaching festive season. Everywhere she turns she spies through rain lashed windows green and fuscia lights falsely heralding the coming of God. She wonders why Christmas has lost its meaning and debates whether or not to celebrate it, as she is of low religious demeanour. She little money and even less desire to buy gifts, to go through that rigmarole of purchasing, worrying, wrapping. Her mood is not helped by the weather, grey, dark and wet. Rain for as along as she can remember, the sun a rumour in the sky. She grows sick of being pelted by rain on her way to college, of wrestling with her umbrella, of having her fringe blown every way possible. She is sick of the hard, colourless slog that is winter.

It is possible that she has slipped into a depression, for she feels removed from the easy happiness of her friends. No-one has mentioned her flight from the exhibition, which she is glad of, however she feels the spectre of the man hanging over her shoulder, as if one day he will jump out and grab her. She finds herself longing for this, to amend the mistake she made.

It is true that Lucrezia has a habit of being harsh on herself. She finds little goodness, always dividing herself up for scrutiny. Nothing is ever good enough. That was the problem with Harrison, the memories of who, though faded, cut deeper in this bleak time. The time he bestowed upon her never seemed enough, now she knows if that time were to come again it would be sufficient, beautiful even.

But through the darkness, the greyness, the wind and the rain, there is a future and she is aware that by moping in her room she is squandering precious time in which to become herself. Only a few months left to transform herself. She attempts to start from scratch, with a palette of the season, deep, dark holes of black, whirls of despairing grey. It is as cliched perhaps as anything else she could craft, but she received great pleasure in the monochrome coming to life at the end of her brush, more tangible than the simpering, curious modern mother of God she presented.

What had she been thinking? There is little place in this mad, selfish world for the transcendence found within devotion. It takes too much contemplation, too much time in which something more exciting could be speeding past. Too much of a sacrifice for those who wish only for their own gain and greatness. However, curling in the pit ofher stomach is a knowledge that that man would have known what she was seeking. That he would have had the grace and the time, the ability even, to look further within the image and see the potential, the divine nestled there.

He catches up with her two weeks before the end of term, catching her unaware on her way home. She is too surprised to question his motives. Instead, like a scene from a great tragedy, or romance even, she is frozen half way down the college steps, he waiting to greet her at the bottom. She shoulders her bag and the stare she gives him could hardly be described as welcoming. In fact she is afraid, terrified that he would come to such length as to wait for her on a damp, freezing December night. It is an evening full of blue shadows, a night to be at home in front of the fire. She thinks of her draughty college room, with the summer thin curtains, the unmade bed, the clutter and decides to go wherever he plans to take her.

He speaks her name and she doesn’t know how she feels to learn he knows it. She narrows her eyes slightly, as if to adjust her perception of him, friend or foe? He appears kind enough, knowledgeable. Honest, even. She takes two steps down towards him.

“Yes?” She tilts her head, as if to imply he might not be worth her time.

“I saw your exhibition and I was astounded by your work.” He seems a little over come, a little too keen, it puts her off slightly.

“I’m sorry I left in such a hurry.” She is surprised to find herself apologising, but now that evening is creeping out into the open she will seize any opportunity to relate to it.